


dead end

by Larissa



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Gen, Horror, Pandemics, Post-Apocalypse, Role Reversal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-28
Updated: 2015-09-28
Packaged: 2018-04-21 11:18:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4827128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Larissa/pseuds/Larissa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the days after Meteorfall, a disease begins to spread across the Planet. Appearing as nothing more than a bruise or a rash at first, the symptoms soon become more dire, until people begin to develop monstrous limbs, and at last transform completely into creatures that only crave mako.</p>
<p>That was months ago. Now, Cid and Vincent travel in search of supplies to try and survive long enough to find a cure.</p>
<p>In a world where you're doomed to become a monster, what does it mean to be human?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the bleak sky that shimmers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> For the most part, this fic is based off the original game. There are a couple of details from the Compilation thrown in for flavor and some things are (obviously) drawn from Advent Children, but the bulk of this fic deals with elements presented in the original game. Dirge has been completely disregarded.
> 
> Huge, huge thanks to [NightsMistress](http://archiveofourown.org/users/nightsmistress) for the beta and all-around support.
> 
> This fic comes with a [fanmix](http://8tracks.com/farfromdaylight/dead-end), if you'd like something to listen to as you read.

They had barely made it inside Fort Condor when the batteries in Cid’s flashlight ran out.

The flashlight wasn't a particularly good one, but it had been the only one that fit the batteries he'd found and so he'd been stuck with it. Cid smacked the heel of his hand against the flashlight, but all he got for his trouble was a couple lousy flickers. Then it gave up entirely.

"Oh, you gotta be fucking-- are you serious? I bring this shit all the way here and _now_ it decides to crap out on me? Seriously? This is the shit I put up with? _Long-lasting Shinra quality_ my ass. Fucking hell, I don't have time for this bullshit--"

"Quiet," came Vincent's voice in the dark.

Cid shut up.

He could only just make out Vincent's outline in the flickering, feeble light coming from further down the hall. Might be leftover energy from the reactor here. Didn't matter where it came from, it was enough to get by. Barely. If nothing was in the shadows, that is.

He didn't hear anything. At least, not yet

"Maybe we'll get lucky and nobody'll be home," Cid said, keeping his voice low.

"Do you really believe that?" Vincent murmured.

No. No, he didn't.

 

 

Cid had bet that if any place could have survived this whole mess, it was Fort Condor.

Used to be he didn’t understand why this place was called a fort to begin with. It didn’t look a damn thing like the forts Shinra had built. Or Wutai for that matter. Hadn’t been until the whole huge materia mess that Cid even been inside the place.

Made sense once he got a look inside, though. The place didn’t look like much from the outside, but that was the whole damn point. Shinra had just built the reactor on top of the mountain and left it to bleed the ground dry. It was the people who’d turned it into something more, digging rooms from Shinra’s maintenance tunnels -- rooms that went so deep no army could ever root them out. Shinra had sure as hell tried.

Wasn’t an army they were facing, though. Deep down, Cid wished it was.

 

 

A few lights were still lit in the hall. Not many. Just enough for Cid to see by. Vincent didn't have the same problem, Cid guessed. There was a faint red glow from his direction.

“There’s been a struggle here,” Vincent murmured.

Cid grunted. He could damn well see that. Hell, it looked like a out-and-out brawl had been fought in this very room, the way the furniture had been thrown around -- and smashed, by the looks of the splintered chairs in the corner. He grabbed a chair leg to use as a torch and pulled out his lighter. The flame took, and he shone the torch towards the darker side of the room.

“No bodies,” he said.

“No,” Vincent agreed.

No bodies, but an awful lot of blood. Looked like some clothes, too -- though most of them were ripped to shreds. Pair of boots, torn down the middle. Some of the wall was blackened and burnt, and Cid caught sight of an overturned lamp in the corner. Was a wonder the whole place hadn’t burned down.

Come to think of it he could hear water running somewhere. No, not water -- there was no goddamn way the pipes were still working, not after all this time. Mako. Fuck.

Whole place smelled like mako -- not surprising, given the reactor, but it was overpowering, even drowning out the scent of death and decay that had taken root here. Cid glanced at one of the massive pipes sticking out of the walls. Wasn’t a room in here without them. Came with the way this place had been built -- with the reactor on top, the pipes went all the way through the mountain down into the mako in the ground below.

If one of these pipes had sprung a leak...

“Motherfucker,” Cid swore under his breath. “I shoulda fuckin’ known--”

A shadow passed in the torchlight. There was movement behind him, just out of the corner of his eye. Cid just had enough time to turn as they came for him, claws outstretched.

Vincent was already firing and Cid fumbled for his spear as he brandished the torch towards the creature before him. In its flickering light he could make out the gruesome look on its face as it snarled at him. Cid dropped the torch -- he couldn't carry it and use his spear at the same time, he'd have to go without -- and swung it over his shoulder just in time to block the monster's claws from ripping into his chest. Cid brought his knee up towards the creature and shoved it back as hard as he could.

There was no such thing as fighting fair with these things. He knew damn well that they wouldn't. 

He had barely a second's reprieve before it was coming at him again, its long arms shooting out at him in the darkness. Cid slashed at the monster with his spear, but its skin was too damn tough for him to slice through, especially at this angle. Didn't leave much more than a dent. Same went for Vincent's bullets. Only way to kill these things was to wear them down or get a damn lucky strike.

There was a reason Cid still used his spear, though, even though it wasn't the wisest of choices in a room this small and tight. These things fought mostly with their claws and teeth, and if there was one thing spears were damn good at, it was controlling the range in a fight. Playing defense had never really been his thing, but these creatures didn't give much in the way of options. He had scars up and down his arms to prove that.

He kicked again as the monster got close and used the same motion to thrust forward with his spear. He hadn't been able to pierce its chest, but he could already see green blood oozing out of it. Good enough. He spun his spear around and hit the monster with the blunt end of his spear to stun it, then slammed the wide blade against the jagged spikes that covered its head. It crumpled to the ground, and Cid didn't hesitate to plunge his spear into its chest. The monster convulsed, spitting out more green blood, then went still.

Cid drew his spear out with a grunt. Vincent had stopped firing. Sure enough, there was another body on the other side of the room, a hole in its head.

"You hear any more?" Cid asked, not bothering to keep quiet. If they were gonna come, they were gonna come. No way around it.

Vincent shook his head. “No. They must be deeper in.”

"Fuck." Cid wiped his hand over his face. “Fuck. This whole fucking place is overrun. We’re not gonna find shit.”

“...Do you want to turn back?”

“What? No!” Cid scowled at him. “Like hell I’m going back empty-handed. There’s gonna be something here. We just gotta find it.”

He bent and picked up the torch -- then, after a moment’s consideration, shoved it in Vincent’s direction. “Here. You carry it, I can’t see shit. And if this place is full of them I’m gonna need both hands.”

Vincent accepted it wordlessly. Somehow, the monsters looked even more gruesome underneath the light, their faces frozen in death and the blue-black plates covering their bodies. The one he’d killed wasn’t even that big. Couldn’t have been more than a kid.

Cid couldn’t bear to look. Instead he strode forward. “Let’s go,” he said.

 

 

The thing was, they'd thought they saved the world.

Hell, they'd done the goddamn impossible, hadn't they? They'd descended into the crater and faced off against a man who wanted to become a god, and they'd beaten him. It didn't get much more impressive than that. Course, when they'd gotten back out, Meteor had still been there, about ready to smash into Midgar. And Holy hadn't been able to stop it.

If there was one thing Cid was never gonna be able to forget as long as he lived, it was the sight of the Lifestream rising up to take on Meteor. The Planet defending itself against all that tried to stop it -- now didn't that make for a storybook ending. And sure enough the Planet survived. They all made it out.

Everyone except Aerith, but -- it was because of her the Planet had been able to fight back, wasn't it? That was the feeling Cid had gotten. She had helped them, to the very end.

And they'd gone to see her, afterwards, to say goodbye, and thanks, and Cid had thought that was the end of it. That they would go their separate ways and set about the task of rebuilding. Hell knew he had plenty to get to. He'd been to space -- to space! -- and he sure as hell wasn't gonna stop there. There was a hell of a lot to think about now that mako was out of the picture. There was some uncertainty in that, but hell. If Cid was the kind of man to avoid uncertainty he never woulda been a rocket scientist to begin with.

He'd helped _save the goddamn world_ \-- that had to count for something, didn't it?

 

 

Maybe it would have, if it wasn't for the disease.

Cid had barely been home a week before it started showing up. In the beginning nobody knew what it meant, or where it came from. All anybody knew was that people started developing black rashes on their bodies. Wasn't long after that the rashes would end up seeping out black liquid, as if purging something from their flesh.

In the early days, when they were still figuring out what the disease was, sometimes people would just die from that -- the sheer pain of the lesions, and the fainting spells that went with the black pus. But that didn't last. Not when it got worse.

Not when people started turning into monsters.

It wasn't even all at once -- hell, if it _was_ , Cid could have stomached it a lot better. But he'd had to watch as half his goddamn town had developed monstrous limbs, as their bodies began to harden and their blood turned to mako, as they slowly lost what was left of their humanity until they were nothing but mindless, raving _monsters_.

Once the disease finished transforming them... it was all over. They weren’t people anymore.

It wasn't contagious. Cid knew that for a fact. He'd fought enough of them -- suffered enough wounds -- that if it was, he should've been turned into one of them a damn long time ago. But that didn’t mean he wasn't susceptible to it. Anybody could get the disease if they got close enough to mako. That was how it spread so fast, in the beginning. The whole damn world relied on mako.

And now people were turning into monsters because of it. 

No, not monsters. Cid had called them that in the early days, in Rocket Town. But it was more than that. These things were too crazed, too desperate to just be monsters. Normal monsters killed just for the hell of it. These things were born from mako, went mad from it, did anything to get it.

In Midgar they’d called them makonoids. Mako humans. The name was one of the few things that had gotten out of there.

Cid was taking a big damn risk even coming to Fort Condor. But he’d had no choice. There was no cure for the disease -- at least, none they’d found yet. But you could stave it off a while, if you had tranquilizers. Not just any tranqs, either -- Shinra-grade, the ones they used to take down SOLDIERs when the mako got to them.

No matter how many of Fort Condor’s people had succumbed to the disease… it didn’t matter. If there were tranqs here, Cid would find them.

He wouldn’t let Shera down.

 

 

Fort Condor made about as much sense as a maze. The place had been built out of necessity, Cid knew, but that didn't make it any easier to traverse its tight corridors and trashed rooms.

There _were_ bodies as they got further in -- mangled corpses that were barely distinguishable as human. They'd been ripped to shreds and left there to bleed out. Wasn’t really clear if they'd been eaten or not. Cid had never wanted to get close enough to check.

No sign of any more of the creatures yet. Not much in the way of supplies, either. From what Cid recalled from his last trip here there'd been a couple of shops on the upper levels, but they would've been cleaned out first, and it wasn't like Fort Condor ever had much in the way of natural resources past mako. Most everything they needed they had to import from Junon or Kalm. And it wasn't like they were exporting anything other than bullets.

Weapons were the one thing Fort Condor was bound to have. They had always had more weapons than they knew what to do with. Came with the whole fighting Shinra thing -- after a while they'd built up a decent stockpile, they just needed people to come help fire the damn guns. They'd gotten by as much as they could with stuff no one needed to man, Cid remembered that much -- he'd spent half of the battle he'd fought here just rolling rocks down at the approaching army -- but they still had to fight back when it came down to it.

Sure enough, there were a couple of rifles near the disfigured bodies. One of them looked too damaged to be used, but Vincent picked it up anyway, ejecting the magazine and tucking it in his pack. The other rifle he slung over his shoulder.

Cid knew that ammunition was getting to be a problem. Shinra had always pumped out an endless supply between Midgar and Junon, but it took high-caliber weapons to take the makonoids down, not the shitty standard-issue stuff they'd given to the rank and file.

It had only added to the death toll. Even in a place like Fort Condor, apparently -- somewhere that stockpiled as many weapons as they could against Shinra.

Cid swore under his breath. "Come on," he said. "We gotta get to the lower levels. If there's anything left, it'll be there."

 

 

There had never been any civilians at Fort Condor, as Cid understood it. When the people here had taken up their ill-advised mission of protecting the giant fucking bird that had taken roost on a goddamn mako reactor -- and was Cid ever glad _it_ had flown the coop, he didn't want to deal with it on top of everything else -- they'd sent away anyone who wasn't willing to fight to the death.

Through the course of their fight, however, they'd endured casualties and ended up with a number of people unable to go out and fight off Shinra. This number had risen over time to the point that they'd had to hire outside help to fight their battles for them, which Cid couldn't make a whole lot of sense of, but whatever.

The point was, all the people stuck inside whenever Shinra came to retake the mountain ended up retreating to the deepest, most protected part of the caverns. Didn't take a genius to figure out where the survivors had gone after Meteorfall.

 

 

There were more bodies strewn around the room with the rope ladder leading to the lower levels. Some of the limbs in here weren't human at all, but it wasn't clear if the people attached had died before or after the transformation had taken them. Wasn't a pretty sight, either way.

Cid could hear something clanging against the pipes down below. The sound of mako trickling through reverberated through the walls around them. Cid peered towards the opening with the rope ladder with a scowl, his grip tightening on his spear.

Vincent held the torch to the side, signalling to Cid to stop. He nodded towards the opening and raised his gun. Cid grunted and hefted his spear, taking a few steps closer. Would be hard to get a good angle, but--

A makonoid emerged in a blur of blue and red, teeth outstretched. Cid thrust his spear forward -- the tip slid off the hard shell of its chest but he managed to pierce it with a second push and pin it there as Vincent shot it in the head. More claws were coming up beneath it and Vincent was still firing as Cid drew his spear back with a wet spray of blood, kicking the corpse out of the way as another makonoid came up after the first. Cid slammed the side of his spear against its head, knocking it back down into the hole, and thrust his spear after it, catching it in the neck. He twisted his wrist and heard the monster cry out in pain. With another hard shove of his spear he knocked it down the rope ladder entirely. He hadn't managed to behead it, not with that strike, but it wouldn't be getting back up.

As soon as Cid moved out of the way, Vincent pushed ahead of him and moved down the ladder. Cid followed, hurrying as best he could with the long spear on his back. He heard more gunshots as Vincent finished off the one he'd knocked down there, then a couple more. When Cid jumped down he saw another makonoid slumping against the wall. Cid squinted towards the hallway nearby, but he didn't hear any more coming.

Shit, if he'd thought the stench of mako was bad upstairs, it was nothing compared to down here. The place was much more trashed, too -- the monsters had had their way with the place for a while. The bloodstains didn't look fresh.

Cid had always had a strong stomach, but even before all this crap happened, sights like this would have made him go green. Now it just filled him with dread and a creeping resignation. He wanted to mourn the dead, but he just... couldn't. They weren't the first to die to the disease. Sure as shit weren't gonna be the last. Didn't mean he didn't care, course he did, he just didn't have the space for it now.

Had to get through this. Had to get what he needed. 

Vincent was shining the torch down a hallway at the other side of the chamber. Rubble and debris blocked their path. It wasn’t clear if it’d been put them intentionally, or if it was a casualty of the fighting.

Either way, they weren’t getting through that way. Cid cast an uneasy look at the opening closer to the rope ladder. If there had been a door there, it was long gone. “Guess we’re goin’ that way.”

Vincent glanced at him. “Are you sure?” He directed the torch back towards the ladder. “It’s not too late to turn back.”

Cid scowled and hefted his spear. “ _Yes_ , I’m fucking sure. Shit, would you quit asking?”

Vincent shrugged and stepped forward, impassive. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Jackass.

 

 

The hallways down here were even tighter than on the higher levels. It was clear that these rooms were never meant for people to stay in long-term -- they were too small and cramped for that, as if no one had ever had the time to dig out anything bigger. Probably didn't have the space, with all the pipes running through the mountain. Seemed like they took up as much of the walls as the dirt.

That sinking feeling in Cid's chest was getting lower and lower.

Nobody really knew how the makonoids worked. Wasn't like anyone had the time to sit down and figure that shit out when half the goddamn world had been overrun in a matter of days and weeks. All anyone knew for sure was that they thrived on mako, and would do anything to get to it.

Fort Condor wasn't built like the other reactors -- there was no mako reservoir here, all the processing was done up at the reactor on top of the mountain and the pipes running through the mountain simply pulled the mako out of the ground and got it up there -- but that didn't mean there wouldn't be some left. And a settlement that should have been safe from the horrors of the Lifestream touching everyone in the goddamn world with raw mako wasn't safe at all.

The only solace Cid had was that at least it wasn't as bad as Midgar.

Vincent was silent ahead of him. Down here there were a couple of emergency lights still on, strung close to the ground. It cast everything in long shadows, and Cid couldn't help but feel even more on edge. In the distance he could hear some kind of scraping sound, but it wasn't close enough to make out for sure.

Cid glanced behind him. Empty. He knew the makonoids could move almost silently when they wanted to. It was the clawed feet that usually gave them away, but on the dirt floors Cid knew he wouldn't hear them. He was relying on Vincent's hearing more than his own. If Cid heard anything, it would be too late.

They reached another cramped room. Bunkbeds were set against the walls, the frames broken and the mattresses little more than a crumpled mess. Mismatched clothes hung from an upturned dresser. Amidst the upheaval, a small lamp had managed to stay upright.

No supplies, though. Nothing they could use. The clothes were too tattered to be worth taking back. And no weapons. They'd seen rooms on the upper levels like this.

They headed back out into the hallway, but Vincent only went a few more steps before pausing. "Watch your step," he murmured.

Cid glanced down. There was a dead makonoid on the ground, its spine twisted at an unnatural angle. He grimaced and stepped around it.

Something rattled against the pipes. Vincent stopped in his tracks and Cid froze up with a sharp scrape of metal against metal. His goddamn spear was too long -- he was banging it against everything in here. If this place got much tighter he wasn't gonna be able to use it at all.

"Fuckin' thing--" Cid started.

"Don't," Vincent muttered. He hadn't moved. Then in a blur he raised his gun, pointing it just behind Cid and firing several times in quick succession. Cid yelped and tried to duck out of the way as the claws came towards him, the makonoid screeching in pain.

Somehow Vincent managed to squeeze past Cid's flailing limbs and swapped positions with him, firing again at the makonoid behind them. Light bounced off the bright brass of Vincent's claw as he shoved the creature against the wall and fired three more bullets into its skull. It went limp and sagged to the ground.

Cid looked down at the hallway behind them. He could see the makonoid's tracks in the dirt. The bottom dropped out of his stomach. "How long was it--"

"We need to keep moving," Vincent said. He was loading a fresh magazine into his gun.

Right. Cid gave himself a shake. They couldn't fight like this, in a hallway hardly wide enough for him to walk through. In and out. That was all this was supposed to be. In and out.

"Can't be that much further," Cid said. "We just gotta find where they holed up."

 

 

There were a couple more rooms along this hallway, all with the same level of disarray as they'd seen before. Cid bypassed them all. If anyone had survived here -- and he doubted they had done so for long -- they wouldn't have done it in those tiny, cramped spaces.

They would have tried to starve the makonoids out. They would have tried to hole up with as many supplies as they could so they could tend to their wounded, and they would have fought off any who got through. But it wouldn't have mattered. The makonoids didn't eat. Best as Cid could tell they didn't do much in the way of sleeping either. Probably too keyed up on mako.

And sure enough, the people of Fort Condor had done just that.

The room they found wasn't all that large, when it came down to it. It probably could have fit a couple dozen people, comfortably. But comfort had been the last thing on anyone's minds here. Bodies both human and monstrous littered the ground, too many to count. Electric lights had been set up throughout the room, but only half were still on, and it cast the place in as much darkness as light -- so much that it took Cid a moment to realize that not all of the bodies here were _dead_.

He swallowed.

The makonoids hadn't noticed them yet. They were all gathered in the corner, next to one of the pipes, clawing at it with screeches. No wonder they hadn't heard them coming.

Not for the first time, Cid wished he could just use magic to take the fuckers down. He'd never been as good with spells as some of the others -- he'd always been the brute force type with spells -- but he'd take whatever edge he could get against these fucking things.

Didn't matter, though. Materia didn't work anymore. Hadn't since Meteorfall. Maybe it was the Planet's way of getting back at them for letting Meteor happen in the first place.

Cid tightened his grip on his spear. He couldn't make out exactly how many there were -- five? six? -- and they were too far away for him to get the drop on them. If they were gonna have any chance of surprise, it was up to Vincent.

Vincent had already pulled out the spare rifle. He balanced the long barrel in his claw, taking careful aim.

"I can take three," Vincent murmured. "Then it's up to you."

That was all the warning Cid got before Vincent fired.

One of the makonoids exploded in green blood. Cid jerked back -- he hadn't realized Vincent had any bullets of that caliber left. Hadn't realized they'd _do_ that much damage at this range. Two of the makonoids dove towards the fallen one, eager for its blood, but the others turned towards them. Cid barely had enough time to thrust his spear forward as they came towards him on all fours, using their long arms to increase their speed.

He caught one of them across the side of the face and another with the jagged side of his spear, and he twisted his thrust into a slash, trying to cut into the thick plates that covered their flesh. He couldn't let them get close -- there were too many of them, he'd never make it if they got their claws on him. There was another loud bang as Vincent fired, beheading one of the makonoids closest to him with a single shot and _fuck_ that seemed even louder at close range, his ears were ringing and the makonoid was howling in pain.

Another was coming closer and Cid wasn't quick enough to hold it off as it tore through the thick leather of his jacket with its claws. He tried to push it back with his spear but he couldn't get the right angle and he was reduced to giving it a hard kick. There were a few more shots -- Vincent had switched to his handgun -- but he wasn't firing at the one attacking Cid, he was fighting another that was all over him.

Cid gave another hard shove with his spear, pushing the makonoid back, and thrust the tip into the creature's gaping mouth. The spikes on either side of his spear caught the jagged edges of the makonoid's jaw and as Cid twisted he managed to rip its face off entirely. There were hints of something beneath -- but he didn't dare look, he simply yanked his spear out and watched the body crumple.

Nearby Vincent had dealt with the makonoid attacking him, which left only one near the pipe in the corner. Vincent raised his rifle once more, but Cid shook his head. The creature was still in a frenzy trying to suck up all the green blood the other had spilled; it would never notice him coming.

Cid shifted his grip on his spear as he approached the makonoid. Best thing would be to take it out with a single hit. Back of the neck, twist it off if he didn't get it in the first hit. Wasn't often he got strikes like this but it wasn't the first time, either. It was better than fighting them. Anything was.

The makonoid didn't move as he came up behind it, head still bowed over the other dead makonoid. Sounded like it was trying to suck up all the blood it could get from the other one. Now that he was closer Cid could see that they hadn't broken through the pipe against the wall, but they'd certainly been trying. There were claw marks from the floor to the ceiling and dents all the way through. Thank fuck Shinra had built them sturdy.

The mako had gotten out one way or another, though. All the bodies in this room proved that.

Cid didn't give the makonoid time to realize he was there. He brought his spear down on the back of its neck and stepped on its back to pin it in place. He had to make a second thrust, but that did the trick. It was dead.

His shoulders slumped and he leaned against his spear. Didn't matter how many fuckin' times he did this, he never liked it. He did it, sure. Did it because he had to. But that didn't make it easy. None of this shit was easy.

"Fuck," Cid grunted. "There better not be any more."

"No," Vincent said. "That was all of them."

Least they had that going for them. Cid pulled his spear out of the makonoid with a wet noise. Looking around he wasn't even sure which ones they'd just killed, there were so many dead bodies in here. He wondered how long the rest had been here.

There were supplies, though. Crates stacked against the wall. Some spilling open onto the floor. Wouldn't be much in the way of water, but Cid thought he saw some old Shinra military rations. No way he was gonna turn those down.

Had to find the tranquilizers, though. Had to be some of them in here. "Tranqs first," Cid said. "Then we'll look around for--"

Something shifted in the pile of bodies.

Vincent's gun was already back in his hand. Cid gripped his spear, but it wasn't as steady as before. He thought he'd gotten all the killing blows. He knew Vincent never missed his.

A clawed arm stretched out towards them. Cid took a step forward-- then stopped.

Because the body it was attached to was still human.

It was a kid, really. Couldn't be more than sixteen, seventeen at the most. Didn't look like he'd eaten in a while. His clothes were in tatters. And his arms were covered in blue-black scales and clawed at the end.

How the fuck was he still _alive?_

The kid was trying to pull himself out of the pile of bodies, but his limbs weren't responding properly -- they never did, after they stopped being human. He tried to speak, but it came out as a rasp, more sound than word and entirely filled with pain.

Didn't matter. Cid knew what he was trying to say.

_Help me._

Could he?

He'd seen... he'd seen people this far gone before. People he'd known, in Rocket Town. People he'd tried to save. He knew there wasn't any cure. Knew that once they got that far, it was better to end it. The lesions covering their body caused horrible pain. The monstrous limbs wouldn't respond to a human mind. It was only a matter of time.

But--

But--

_Fuck, I can't just leave him like this. That's not right._

Cid swallowed. The kid was still trying to pry himself forward, out of the pile. He'd managed to get one of his legs out. Part of it was still red -- some of the flesh beneath was still visible. A weak spot, Cid thought, and then immediately regretted it. _There's a goddamn leg under there._

Vincent hadn't moved. He still had the gun raised. It seemed he was leaving it to Cid. No fucking surprise there. Planet forbid Vincent ever make one of the hard choices.

The kid rasped again, louder. It wasn't a word, but Cid could hear the pain in it.

Fuck it. He couldn't just stand here and do nothing. He had to help the kid. He couldn't heal him, but... he couldn't leave him like this, either. Cid steadied himself and moved forward, lifting his spear.

"Fuck, kid," Cid muttered. "I'm sorry."

The kid's eyes met his as he came closer. What was in them, Cid wasn't sure. In a matter of seconds, they weren't there anymore.

Cid jerked back. "No-- fuck, no--"

It was too late. The transformation was already going through -- the lesions spread out and covered what was left of the boy's skin, and hardened into the dark material that made up a makonoid's exoskeleton. In a matter of seconds the kid's face had been replaced with that of a snarling monster.

And it was coming for him, claws outstretched.

"Fuck! Fucking hell--"

Cid couldn't seem to move fast enough. His spear was in his hands, but he'd been too shocked to move -- too horrified by it. He'd only seen the sudden transformation happen once before, had almost forgotten it was _possible_ when people could survive months with the limbs -- had forgotten that everything could be over in the blink of an eye and that there was nothing he could fucking do.

There was a sharp retort as Vincent's rifle went off. The makonoid's head exploded, sending green blood all over Cid's jacket. He staggered backwards as the makonoid slumped to the ground.

Vincent slung the rifle over his back once more. "I didn't know that could happen," he said.

Cid had to take a moment before he could find it in himself to respond. Shit, he needed a cigarette. He didn't have any. He'd ran out months ago. "It's... it's rare."

"Hm."

That was it. Just _hm_. He could really punch Vincent sometimes.

Cid wiped his hand over his face. "Let's just find the tranqs and get out of here." If there was anything to be found. Who knew if there was, at this rate.

"Check that one."

"What?"

Vincent pointed to the one he'd just killed. "Check that one."

“Why the hell would-- you know what, never mind. Sure. Whatever.”

 

 

It took both of them to clear out the dead bodies from the nearby area. Sure enough, just as Vincent had said, there was a small medical kit tucked close by. Inside were a few used syringes -- but those that remained were Shinra-grade tranquilizers. Exactly the kind that staved off the disease.

Cid gave Vincent a bewildered look. “How the fuck did you know?”

“He was the only one to survive. He must have had them.” Vincent cast a glance around the room. “This place was overrun at least a month ago. Perhaps more. The more the disease takes them…”

“The less the creeps pay attention. Right.”

But it hadn’t saved this kid. Hadn’t saved any of the people here. All these tranqs had done was keep him alive for a little while longer.

Was Shera going to end up just like this?

Was he?

Cid shoved the medical kit in his pack. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get the rest and get the fuck out of here.”


	2. minor turbulence

Used to be, Fort Condor was the most remote place on the Eastern Continent. Was about as south as you could go, tucked near a mountain range and the coast and fuckall else. No good roads to get there, and sure as hell none leaving, either. The goddamn end of the world hadn't made matters any easier in that regard.

The terrain wasn't the way it used to be, though. When Cid had seen it from the _Highwind,_ the Lifestream had just looked like a bunch of green glowy shit rising up from the ground to take out Meteor. It hadn't been until he got back to Rocket Town that he realized that it had been an entirely _physical_ manifestation. The Lifestream had ripped straight through the ground, and it had left gorges in its wake.

There was one such gorge about where the Mythril Mines used to be. From afar it looked like the mountains had been cleaved in two, and up close it was a hell of a sight. Looking down you could see huge veins of mythril laid bare.

Of course, nobody was gonna mine it anytime soon. Not without equipment. And not without people to do it.

In the meantime, it made for a decent enough place to set up camp. There wasn't a lot of cover between here and Fort Condor, and the less they stayed out in the open, the better. Less chance of makonoids.

There weren't that many of them out in the places between settlements like this. Shinra had done a damn good job of finding most of the active mako springs in the world and dropping reactors on top of them. It was the regular monsters Cid was worried about -- especially those affected by the disease.

As Cid understood, monsters had first started showing up when Shinra started sucking mako up out of the ground. They’d been around before that, of course, it wasn’t like Shinra _invented_ mako, but they’d been few and far between. Shinra had just been the ones who made mako commonplace and drenched the land with it. Didn’t take an environmentalist to see that the world was a damn sight different than it had been before the reactors. Mako affected the land, and it sure as hell affected the animals living on it.

Wasn’t clear yet how things were gonna change with the disease, long-term. If they even had a long-term. Hell, Cid hadn’t even known it was a widespread thing at first. Hadn’t been until he’d spoken to Nanaki that he’d realized the scope of things, not that they’d had much time to talk about the specifics.

When the Lifestream had risen up and flowed all over the world to combat Meteor, Nanaki had told him, it was as if the mako had come directly to the surface in a way it never had before. It wasn't just people who were affected by the disease -- everything had been touched by the Lifestream, from animal to human to monster. Even plants, to a lesser extent. Nothing had escaped the Planet’s wrath.

It sounded crazy, when you put it like that. Cid had said as much at the time. But he only had to look around to know it was true. Even places that used to have lots of plants were withering and dying. Monsters were created from overexposure to mako, but the disease had turned them berserk and made them far more powerful than ever before. 

And Cid had seen firsthand what the disease did to humans.

That was why, Nanaki had said, that it hadn't mattered at all that the disease wasn't contagious. Some people weren't showing symptoms yet, but it was only a matter of time. It could stay dormant for a long while, but sooner or later, they were all going to face the same fate.

It had already happened to Shera, after all.

 

\---

 

Whenever Cid thinks back to how it started, he thinks about that old bastard Kelsey.

Cid had never liked Kelsey. He always had a joke. Puns usually. Didn't matter what the occasion, he always had one ready to go. And they were never, ever funny. Just whatever bullshit he could get to rhyme. How the fuck was that a pun?

Anyway.

Cid had returned home with a long list of ideas of shit to do in order to get his airship fixed up only to find that his town was still celebrating their continued survival. And, hell, he was in the mood for a celebration himself. Damn well deserved it, after all the shit he'd been through. The _Highwind_ was in lousy shape from falling into the crater and running low on fuel, but he didn’t have to fix it right away. He had plenty of time to sit around on his ass and tell everyone how he single-handedly saved the world, didn't he? Honestly, what was the point of going along with all the shit he had if he couldn't exaggerate it later?

A couple people had been sick when Cid first got home, but it hadn't been anything too serious. That was the problem, in those first days. It didn't _seem_ like anything serious. Just looked like people had gotten some bad bruises. The Lifestream had come up out of the ground right by the scaffolding for the rocket and a couple people had injuries from the debris, so the bruises fit right in. The town doctor hadn't seen anything amiss and neither had Cid when he got back. Just a bunch of people who were bandaged up. Looked like a town that was healing from a worldwide disaster. Nothing to be surprised about.

Thinking back, he's not actually sure that Kelsey was the first. He's just the one Cid remembers the best. It was the one he'd seen with his own eyes.

He'd had another long night at the Shanghai Inn, kicking back beers and entertaining the townspeople with a rousing story of their exploits in Wutai -- and rather creatively editing out the fact that he'd had his materia lifted from him from a sixteen year old girl -- and he'd stumbled back home with the warm buzz of alcohol and good company. 

At some point in the night there'd been a pounding on the door, which he'd ignored entirely. If anyone wanted him they could wait until morning, thanks much. Cid had rolled over and gone back to sleep.

It was Shera who had answered. Shera who had gone out with Janine from down the street to see what the racket was at Kelsey's house. Shera who had hurried to find Cid and shake him awake.

Cid couldn't remember what he'd said to her. Something foul and incoherent, most likely. But he'd never forget the look in her eyes. Or the way her hands were shaking.

"Something's wrong with Kelsey," she'd said. "You have to come quickly."

He hadn't been able to get anything out of Shera as to what was wrong. It had been for the best. He never would have believed it until he saw it for himself.

Kelsey’s body had still been human. But his head had transformed to that of a grotesque, horrible monster -- one that could do nothing but howl in pain.

 

 

Kelsey had been the first of many. Within days half the town had succumbed to the disease. Some were still in the early stages, with nothing but bruises, but others were already beginning to secrete the ugly black goop. Cid didn't know what the hell it was and didn't care much to find out. A couple were starting to get the monstrous limbs.

It wasn't surprising that they looked to Cid to lead them. They'd done the same through everything else Rocket Town had faced. Cid had no idea how to deal with a disease like this -- and neither did the town doctor, for that matter -- but that didn't mean he was going to let his people down.

He started with a quarantine. It did nothing to stop the spread. Whatever this disease was, they all already had it. People who had no signs of the disease got it days after the quarantine started. Cid himself showed no signs of it. And when those worst off finished transforming, the quarantine did more harm than good.

(When he closes his eyes, he sees the blood smeared along the bar in the Shanghai and Ivan snarling at him -- no, it's not Ivan, it's _not_ , he's a goddamn monster and if Cid doesn't _do something_ he's going to get out of here and attack someone else--)

Cid tries not to think about how quickly it all broke down. At the time... fuck, they had a plan. Him and the doc and Shera, they'd all sat down and come up with a plan to try and help everybody. None of them were showing any symptoms. They were the best suited to help everyone else. Couple others, too.

(Shera was the one who found old man Hayato -- she'd checked on him when he wasn't outside by the scaffolding like usual, looking at where the rocket used to be, and found him slumped in a pool of his own blood, dark bruises up and down his arms--)

Even with the quarantine there was no thought of just keeping all the sick away from the healthy. Cid had known every last one of these people for years. They were _his_ people. His town. His crew. He'd never put too much stock into the notion of family but damned if they weren't the closest thing he understood to the concept.

And they hadn't been able to help. Not a single one of them.

(The doc is the one that gives him nightmares -- the only person he's seen turn so goddamn _quickly_ , going from only a couple of lesions to full-on monster in a matter of minutes and he can still hear the way her spine cracked when he bashed her against the wall but he didn't have a _choice_ , she was going to hurt Shera--)

There’d never been a choice, in the end. There were too many of them.

 

 

The phone lines were one of the first things to go down after Meteor. Cid had tried his damnedest to get through to someone, _anyone_ , but without Shinra around none of that shit worked anymore. Hell, it had been pretty spotty even before Meteor actually _fell_ , as Shinra started to lose their grip on things and the execs started dropping like flies.

He had a radio, though. Not a regular radio -- nothing in the town itself was strong enough to get past the Nibel mountains -- but the _Highwind_ could pick up a signal from damn near anywhere. Course, the problem was getting anyone to _respond_.

Cid had sent out a general SOS a couple days into the whole thing, when they started running low on supplies. Had gone back every few days ever since to check and see if anybody else was broadcasting. He hadn't been sure at that point if the disease was limited to Rocket Town, but the longer it went without any word, the more his hopes sank.

The people with the disease were getting worse, and what few people who didn't have it were either beginning to show signs, or worn out from trying to hold the town together. They weren't doing so great with supplies, either -- wasn't like Shinra was making regular shipments anymore, nor anybody else. Water wasn't much of a problem with there being a couple streams nearby but food was running damn low, and none of them had ever been farmers. Half of the food in Rocket Town had been imported from elsewhere.

Even then, though -- even then, Cid had hoped. He'd let himself believe that there was a chance they could just -- make it through this. They'd all stuck together through this shit and help the others, whoever wasn't too far gone. Maybe there was a cure.

 

Thinking back, it made perfect sense that Nanaki was the one to receive his message.

No matter how much he tried to power up the _Highwind_ 's radio -- and he cannibalized damn near every scrap of broadcasting equipment in the town for it -- the signal's strength was never that good to begin with. More importantly, it was meant to interact with the larger Shinra network. Once that went down, didn't matter how far his signal could travel if there weren't any goddamn towers on to receive it and send it on to the next point. Electricity had become a thing of the past almost immediately after Meteorfall, and there wasn't a snowball's chance in hell it was coming back online without a hell of a lot of mako energy or something else entirely -- and that was if all the infrastructure was even still _there_.

Cosmo Canyon, however, had never been attached to Shinra's infrastructure; the terrain wasn't suited for it. Despite that, they'd built the most absurd set of towers and satellites known to man. Cid had only been there briefly during their journey, but he'd been impressed with what he'd seen.

The connection had been lousy, and Nanaki's voice had cut out more often than not. But he'd confirmed Cid's worst fears in a matter of moments. The disease wasn't local at all. It was widespread. And it was only going to get worse.

The Lifestream had infected them all.

 

 

"What do we do?" Shera asked.

Her hands didn’t shake anymore. She carried Cid’s old assault rifle on her back these days, and wore his old leather gloves to protect her arms from the monsters’ claws. She hadn’t gotten into the rocket program through the military like he did, but she’d lived out here in the plains long enough to know how to shoot. He’d already seen her use that rifle too many times.

Cid didn't answer. He hadn't said much of anything since returning home from the _Highwind_. Their home served as something of a makeshift base for the few remaining survivors of Rocket Town -- those who still weren't showing any signs of the disease. There weren't many of them, and every day Cid feared one of them would develop symptoms. Now he knew it was inevitable.

Even now the quarantine was barely holding. They had sealed up the worst of the infected in the houses around the village, those who hadn't yet transformed all the way but still had pieces of their humanity. They were doing their best to care for those who were only suffering from the bruises and lesions, but at random those patients would mutate and develop monstrous limbs. Just yesterday the doctor had spontaneously transformed in a matter of seconds. If that happened again...

Cid gritted his teeth.

"You know what we have to fuckin' do," he said.

 

\---

 

The swamp was in about the same shape as the Mythril Mines these days. Ground all torn up, plants dying. There was some water left, but not much. And there wasn't a single zolom in sight.

Cid wasn't exactly complaining about that, mind, but he wasn't sure if they were _gone_ or mutated by the disease themselves. Sure as shit didn't want to stick around long enough to find out.

Couple of the swamp bugs are still around, though, and hell if the disease hadn't made their exoskeletons twice as hard to pierce. He'd had to stomp one bug to death when his spear didn't prove all that useful against them. Vincent had been reduced to using his claw.

They'd come out of Fort Condor with a decent haul of supplies. Not enough. Never enough. But Vincent had enough supplies to make enough high-caliber bullets to take down a good chunk of makonoids. There had been a whole crate of old Shinra army rations, which tasted awful but Cid was long past picky. Cid had even found batteries for his goddamn flashlight.

And, of course, the tranquilizers.

No cigarettes, though. He'd looked everywhere.

 

 

Neither of them had said much since leaving Fort Condor. Not that Vincent had ever been terribly chatty, but Cid hadn't even had the energy to keep up his usual half of the conversation. All that bullshit had just been so goddamn _wearying_. Even now he was still thinking about it. Wondering if there was anything he could have done differently. Knowing there probably wasn't.

It ate at him all the same.

He just had to hold it together long enough to get these tranqs back to Shera. That was all that mattered now. Just a little more of this, and he'd see her again.

(She hadn't been that bad off when he left. She was fine. He'd make it in time. There was nothing to worry about. She wouldn't go that quickly.)

Couldn't let himself think about it for long. Just a couple of seconds, now and then. Anything else and he'd spend the whole damn trip worrying. He had to believe. Only thing holdin' him together.

"Hey, Vince," he said into the silence, and then trailed off because he didn't know what to follow it with. Vincent glanced over.

Used to be that Cid had no problem spewing off bullshit to chat about, when they were stuck camping like this. He'd regaled the whole crew with tales of his days in the Shinra air force and beyond, or he'd picked fights with Yuffie just for the hell of it. He'd never seen a girl so much fun to needle. 

But there was nothing left to talk about anymore. The world went to shit and half the people in it had lost their goddamn minds in the process. Even the weather was lousy, all gray and overcast.

Vincent didn't say anything, though, even as the silence stretched. Just sat there across from him and watched.

Eventually Cid huffed and shook his head. "Fuck," he said. "Hard to believe it all ended up like this, huh?"

"...I suppose."

"What's there to suppose?" Cid pointed towards the sky, vaguely. "We got rid of the planetforsaken meteor, didn't we? In my book that's supposed to give you a happy ending, not all this bullshit."

"Perhaps."

Great, Vincent was going fuckin' vague on him. Big surprise. "Perhaps what?" Cid parroted back at him.

"We may have defeated the calamity from the sky... but in return, there came a calamity from the earth. It could be said that one was the cost of the other."

That was a sentiment Cid had heard before. It wasn't one he much liked. "If you're gonna start spouting that shit, you might as well throw your lot in with the shitheads who say Meteor shoulda crashed into us anyway," Cid groused.

Vincent's eyebrows rose. Cid had learned over time to read that as "surprise." There was never much to go off of with him.

"Have you never wished that was how it happened?" Vincent asked.

"Wish what happened?"

"That Meteor had fallen, instead of this."

"I-- of--" Cid cut himself off. "Look, what's it matter? It is what it is. We ain't gonna change shit just talking about it."

"No," Vincent agreed, and was silent.

Fuck. If this is what he got for opening his damn mouth, maybe it would have been better to keep quiet.

 

 

Truth was, though, Cid was the one who had needed Vincent along on this trip. Wasn't like he had enhanced senses that could all but pick mako creatures out from a distance. He would've gotten his ass killed on day goddamn two without Vincent, and then what would have happened to Shera?

(She was going to die either way. She was going to turn into one of them and he was going to have to watch her turn and no he wasn't going to let that happen _goddamn it._ )

Hell, Cid had been surprised when Vincent even agreed to tag along. Hadn't asked him why. Figured it had something to do with how Cid had found him, but past that, he didn't have a clue. Never was easy to figure out Vincent. Best to just let him be and puzzle it out later. Eventually everything came together. Or it didn't. Cid didn't much mind either way.

Still. He wouldn't have made it through Fort Condor without him. Cid had no doubt about that. And even now, as they traded off shifts to watch out for makonoids during the night, Cid felt his big mouth opening again.

"Thanks," he said.

To his credit, Vincent didn't give him an entirely confused look. Instead he looked as blank and impassive as always, with the addition of a curious eyebrow. He didn't even say anything. Jerk probably figured Cid would explain himself.

...Which, well, he kinda needed to. "For all that shit in Fort Condor," Cid went on. "I wouldn't have made it through there by myself."

Vincent shrugged. "It was nothing."

Nothing. Right. Walking halfway across a continent on a "maybe" was nothing.

Then again, it wasn’t like Cid could talk. That was why Vincent was even here in the first place, after all.

 

\---

 

Cid had gone to Nibelheim on a whim.

When he'd spoken to Nanaki, the beast had told him what he could of the others -- how Yuffie was in Wutai, doing her best to help her people. And over in the east Cloud, Barret, and Tifa had managed to rally some people together to set up a kind of sanctuary. It was the latter that Cid intended to reach, when the choice became no choice at all and they were forced to leave Rocket Town.

There had been no mention of Reeve, or of Vincent. Reeve had been in Midgar when Meteor hit, Cid knew -- Cait Sith had said something about gathering everyone in the slums. Planet knew if he'd ever made it out of there. Nanaki hadn't heard anything.

But nobody knew what had happened to Vincent.

He'd left the most abruptly, after it all ended. Hadn't even said goodbye. Just turned and left as if he were a stranger. In many ways he had been, but Cid had figured they'd run into him again sooner or later. There were some experiences that formed a bond between people, and saving the world had certainly done it for their motley crew. (Never mind that they hadn't actually succeeded.)

Cid hadn't been there when they'd found Vincent. But he'd heard the stories enough times. Yuffie certainly never got sick of telling it. How they'd found a real live vampire in the Shinra Mansion, sleeping in a _coffin_. Who _did_ that?

Vincent, apparently.

 

 

Of course, Cid didn't know for sure if Vincent had gone back there. But it was a damn good guess, and more importantly he had a good feeling in his gut about it. Cid wasn't a man that often went against his gut.

More importantly, if he was gonna make it all the way to this so-called sanctuary Cloud and them were setting up, he was gonna need resources. And Nibelheim was the best place to get them.

The _Highwind_ didn’t have enough power left in her engines to fly -- and even if she did, Cid no longer had the crew to fly her. But it wasn’t the only bird in town. He’d left the _Tiny Bronco_ with Shera after he’d gotten his airship back, beaten up as it was, and she'd taken it upon herself to start fixing it up. When he'd returned to Rocket Town in those last few days before Meteor fell, the two of them had worked on it together.

Now, the _Tiny Bronco_ was the only chance they had of making it across the ocean. Its engines didn't have that much juice to begin with, and Rocket Town was completely out of its mako reserves. If they could get to the mako at Nibelheim, though...

Well, they might actually have a shot.

 

As Cid understood it, Nibelheim had never been a particularly large town. He'd never really understood why anyone wanted to live there himself. There was no two ways about it, those mountains were goddamn creepy looking. Plus there was the fact that it seemed to have a problem with getting burned to the ground. Not what he was looking for in a place to live.

It wasn't clear how long ago this latest fire had gone through -- couple weeks, maybe, if not longer -- and most of the buildings had been decimated by the force of it. The plane landing might have knocked another one over. Cid wasn't sure. Those houses didn't look that sturdy to begin with.

There were five of them all told in the plane -- himself, Shera, and three others from Rocket Town. Two were former crew of the _Highwind_ \-- Teller, the kid pilot he'd been training, and Wendy, who'd worked on the engine -- and the last was the doc’s husband, Vance. They’d modified the plane as best they could to accommodate that many people, but it had been rough going just getting to Nibelheim, and they’d used up most of their mako. They were gonna have to get all they could here to fill the tank.

Shera could take care of that, though. Cid had a coffin to open.

 

 

Wasn't hard to find the mansion. It was a ways out of the town itself, but that had saved it from the worst of the blaze that had gone through. It hadn't escaped unscathed -- the whole left side of the place looked pretty badly damaged -- but it was still standing. Hell of a lot better than Cid could say for the rest of Nibelheim.

He wasn't surprised to see monsters inside. Damn near expected it at this point. Maybe it had been stupid to go alone, but Cid knew that as soon as Shera and the others got their hands on whatever mako was left in the town, anything mutated in the area wouldn't give two shits about him.

No humans, though. Not yet. They had to be somewhere else. Maybe they'd all headed up to the reactor. Cid wasn't planning on going up there unless he absolutely had to. He wasn't goddamn suicidal.

Now, what had Yuffie said about how they'd found Vincent? Some kinda secret passageway?

 

 

They hadn't been kidding. There really were coffins in here.

Least there used to be coffins. Cid had realized in short order that the mansion itself had been trashed from top to bottom. Given the number of monsters infesting it -- and there _had_ been mutated humans, once he'd gotten to the basement , both living and dead-- it was a wonder the place was still standing. Vincent's room had a coffin, singular, and what appeared to be the debris of several more, along with... were those skeletons?

When Yuffie had described it, Cid had thought it sounded ridiculous. After all the death he'd seen in the past few weeks, though, Cid found it sobering. This wasn't a place for the living.

Well. Time to see if Vincent was home.

...The coffin wouldn't open.

"You gotta be fuckin' kidding me-- Valentine, open the fuck up."

Silence.

Cid grumbled under his breath and fumbled for his spear. "Where's the goddamn latch..."

It wasn't a latch, it was a lock. The dumbass had locked himself in. Cid bashed the blunt end of his spear against it, then pushed the coffin lid off.

Vincent's eyes were open. He looked groggy, and fairly disheveled. Came with sleeping in a _fucking coffin_ , Cid thought.

"Cid?" Vincent said. It came out as a rasp. He coughed heavily, clearing his throat. He frowned. "You shouldn't be here."

"Wow. Nice to see you too, asshole."

 

 

It was soon clear that Vincent had been in here almost the entire time. He'd seen some of the monsters, but he had no idea it was a widespread phenomenon. Had no idea the entire world was infected. 

Vincent took it pretty well, all things considered, in that he didn't immediately try to go back in his coffin. He did look paler though.

"Here's the thing," Cid said. "I don't really give a shit why you went back in there. Ain't my business and I doubt you're about to share. But I've already lost more people than I care to count. Lost my damn home. If we hadn't escaped by the skin of our teeth-- if there was any chance that we could go back... well, shit, I wouldn't be talkin' to you, that's for damn sure."

Vincent bowed his head. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, well." Cid sighed. "Nothing you coulda done about it. Nothing anyone could have done."

"Where will you go now?" Vincent asked.

Cid shrugged. "Cloud and them are tryin' to get somethin' together near Kalm, and we're tryin' to make it there. You're welcome to come with. Hell knows we could use the extra firepower."

“I...” Vincent looked away and didn’t answer.

“Look, I ain’t askin’ twice,” Cid said. “Either you come along now or I turn right the hell back around and leave, and I sure as shit ain’t comin’ back. There’s no time for dawdlin’.”

No response.

For the love of the planet, the last thing Cid had time for was Vincent’s bullshit. Talking to this guy was like talking to a brick wall sometimes. Cid threw up his hands. “Fine. Goddamn. You wanna lock yourself up down here, be my guest. Don’t think anybody else is gonna come by this way, but hey, you wanna stick around and wait ‘til it gets you, you go right ahead--”

“I’ll go.” Vincent’s quiet voice cut through Cid’s rant.

“--and don’t think I’m gonna-- wait. What?” Cid blinked as Vincent climbed out of the coffin. “Oh. ...Alright.” He hefted his spear. “You got your gun? ‘Cause you’re gonna need it.”

Vincent nodded. “There’s ammunition upstairs.”

“Good,” Cid said. “Cause we’re taking all of it.”

 

\---

There were makonoids at the chocobo farm.

They hadn’t been there the first time they’d passed through, on their way down south. Hell, if they had, Cid never would’ve come back this way on the return trip. As it was he’d gotten a hell of a surprise when he’d opened the barn door and found a grotesque face snarling at him. Honestly, it was damn lucky the thing hadn’t eviscerated him.

There were two more in the farmhouse. Those Vincent dealt with, taking them down with the high-caliber shots as Cid kept them back with his spear.

“So much for camping out here tonight,” Cid grumbled. “Fuck. How’d they even get in here?”

“We shouldn’t linger,” Vincent said. “If there are any more in the area, they will come.”

Cid looked mournfully at one of the beds. Sure, it was covered in green blood and guts, but it was still a _bed_. “Alright, alright.”

“I’ll get water,” Vincent said, nodding to the well outside. “See if there’s anything here.”

“What? But we already cleared this place out--”

The door was shutting behind Vincent. Cid flipped him off anyway.

 

 

Vincent had been right, though. There were a couple packs by the beds. There were some used syringes inside, along with blackened bandages. There was a shitty little revolver underneath one of the beds, too. It only had a couple bullets left.

The farmers were long gone -- Cid had seen that for himself when he’d passed through here. These makonoids must have been travellers. Sick ones. They’d had the disease, but they’d struck out anyway. And they hadn’t made it.

Cid shoved the gun in his pack. This wasn’t gonna happen to him and Shera. No fuckin’ way. She was safe, and he wasn’t sick. He’d made it this long, maybe he wasn’t gonna get sick. There were some people who hadn’t gotten sick at all, maybe he was… immune, or something. It wasn’t totally out of the question. He just--

There was something moving outside.

Vincent was just out of his sight, but he’d seen him go past, heading to the well nearby. Cid hurried over to the other window and jerked as he caught sight of another makonoid coming up behind Vincent. “Shit! Vince, look out--”

Vincent turned, but the makonoid was already on him, biting his arm and tearing at his clothes. Cid didn’t stay to watch -- he was already heading for the door, spear in hand. Could’ve tried to take a shot from the window but he wasn’t anywhere near a good a shot as Vincent, couldn’t risk shooting him instead.

By the time Cid got out there Vincent had managed to get a couple shots off on the makonoid, but he hadn’t hit anything vital -- the bite to his arm had thrown off his aim and he was stuck using his claw. Cid slammed his spear into the side of the makonoid’s head to get it away from Vincent. The creature started to turn towards him, but before it could Cid gave it a hard push, shoving it down into the well. Its shrieks echoed as it fell.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Cid said, peering over the edge. There was no sight of the thing. He turned back to Vincent. The thing really had gotten the jump on him; it had ripped straight through his clothes with its teeth. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” Vincent said. He winced as he pressed his clawed hand over his right arm, where he’d been bitten. Cid had gotten a few bites of his own from these things, and he knew firsthand that it hurt like hell. “Thank you.”

Cid shrugged. “Surprised you needed the help. Figured once I got over here you woulda gone all teeth and claws yourself on ‘im.”

Vincent shook his head, slowly. “That’s... no longer possible.”

“Huh?”

“My... transformations. They’re no longer possible.”

“Wait. Seriously?” Cid gaped at him. “You’re not fucking with me or anything?”

Vincent shook his head again. He looked puzzled. “I thought you would have realized.”

“I thought you were just holdin’ back on me! Holy shit, Vince, why the hell do you think I asked you along in the first place? You’re a damn good shot but the other shit is kinda the ace in the hole, you know? _Fuck!_ ” Cid pressed his hands to his head.

“Not how I would put it,” Vincent muttered.

“Why the hell didn’t you say anything?” Cid demanded. “And if you tell me I didn’t fuckin’ ask--”

“Well, you didn’t,” Vincent said.

“Mother of fuck, Valentine. You are a piece of work.”

 

 

It wasn’t until some time later, after Vincent had dressed his wound and Cid had finished muttering curses under his breath, that he got around to asking about the particulars.

“So... your monsters. They’re all gone? How the hell do you know?”

Vincent shrugged. “I no longer have the same awareness of them as I once did. At times I still sense Chaos, but never for long. Nothing, from the others.”

“And I’m guessin’ it started after Meteorfall.”

“Correct.”

“Well.” Cid had no idea what to make of that. “Ain’t that just peachy.”


	3. don't come close

Healen Lodge was remote. That, as Cid had been given to understand, was the defining characteristic in its choice as a sanctuary by Cloud and the others, when they'd had to abandon Midgar. The further away the place was from the major population centers, the less chance the makonoids would get inside.

The other thing was that it had been a medical center. Nothing all too fancy, and sure as shit not one of Hojo's labs. Nah, Healen was just one of those places they sent people who got sick and wanted a nice view of the countryside during their recovery. It wasn't something old man Shinra would've used -- he never would've wanted to be away from Midgar that long -- but some of the other executives, sure. Cid could just imagine Palmer lazing around there.

Anyway, it came with plenty of natural protection. Healen was built into the cliffs south of Kalm, and though there were a number of buildings scattered about they were all tucked between two mountains. One of the first things Cid had done when he'd gotten there was help shore up the defenses and make sure there was a damn high wall around any part that wasn’t right up against the cliffs. There were plenty of trees, and the disease made 'em easier to chop down. More importantly there was fresh water by way of a waterfall close by.

Wasn't much in the way of power, of course, or food, but they'd made do. Everything seemed to be about making do, these days.

 

 

The cliffs had come into view a couple hours ago, but they still had a ways to go. Cid had quickened his pace at the sight of them. It was a lot easier to hurry up when you could see your destination.

As they drew closer, though, the weight of his pack seemed to drag him down more and more. He didn't have any problem sharing the shit they'd found. There were a whole lot of people at Healen, between all the refugees from Kalm and Midgar, and chances were that more had shown up since they'd been gone. Word had spread in the months since Cid had arrived. Cloud had a thing about helping people, and hell if it didn't get to be infectious after a while.

But the tranquilizers were a different story.

There weren't many to go around. If there had been, Cid never would have left in the first place. They were heavily rationed, and given only to those who needed them the most -- those who had developed the monstrous limbs. But Cid hadn't been able to bear seeing Shera in so much pain. Hadn't wanted to make her wait to endure that kind of horror to get any kind of relief. So he'd left.

And now he was going to make damn sure she was going to get them.

That meant making sure they weren't tucked in with the rest of his crap. He knew how quick his shit was gonna get picked over the second they got in. "Hold up a sec, Vince," Cid called out, swinging his pack over his shoulder. "I need a minute."

Vincent paused and gave him a curious look, but said nothing. Instead he watched as Cid rummaged around in his pack. Cid had never been the neatest of people, but the tranquilizers were important enough that he'd tucked them away in a pocket all on their own. He pulled them out and shoved them in his pants pocket. They made a bit of a lump, but hopefully everybody would be too interested in all the rations and ammo they'd found to care what he had squirreled away.

Course, there was no hiding anything from Vincent. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"Gettin' my shit together, what's it look like?" Cid said. He had had to pull the flashlight out to get to the bottom of the pack, and he shoved it back in with a grunt. Wasn't too easy to close it back up, but at this rate he just needed it to last a few more hours.

"Cid..."

Vincent was still staring at him. Cid scowled as he tossed the bag back over his shoulder. "What? I'm all done, let's get moving."

Vincent studied him for a moment. Then he shook his head with a sigh. "Idiot."

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"Give them here. I'll make sure they get to Shera."

"Hey--!"

Vincent held out his hand. He had taken the bandage off his arm that morning, saying the wound had already healed. Apparently even without the monsters he still had crazy-fast healing. Cid still maintained there was no goddamn way he could have known that little detail, considering everything about Vincent still screamed "I've got a couple of voices rattling around my head."

He was right, though. Cid had seen the way people were picked over when they got back to Healen. He grumbled under his breath and forked over the tranquilizers. "I fuckin' swear, Valentine, if you let 'em get taken--"

"They won't be." Indeed, the vials disappeared beneath Vincent's cloak in a flicker of black and red. Even standing right next to him, Cid had no idea what he'd done with them.

"...Alright. Fine." What was he supposed to do, anyway, _not_ trust Vincent? Little too goddamn late for that. Cid huffed another curse under his breath. "How do I get 'em back from you?"

"I'll take care of it."

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?" Vincent looked at him. Cid threw up his hands. "Goddamn. Never mind. Let's just go."

 

 

Sure enough, they'd barely made it inside Healen before the vultures descended.

For the most part, Cid couldn't blame them. The people at Healen were here because they had nowhere else to go. Their homes were gone, overrun with makonoids or ruined beyond any chance of recovery. They'd lost their families and friends, either to the disease or to the creatures, and now they were just holding on to anything they could.

'Sides, the way things worked around here was that everybody shared what they could. Wouldn't have worked otherwise. In those last few weeks in Rocket Town they'd had to pool all their resources for the good of everyone who was still alive. Worked the same way here. It didn't come without its downsides, but it had kept them all alive a little bit longer.

All that said, though, the real problem about Healen was Shinra. And that was the part that grated at him.

Healen was a Shinra facility. Had been set up by Shinra, run by Shinra. And Shinra had been the one to reclaim it.

Shinra, it turned out, had told Cloud about this place. Had made some kinda deal, saying mutual cooperation would lead to mutual benefit, or some shit. Shinra, in fact, was Rufus himself, the slick bastard. How the fuck he'd ever gotten out of Midgar, Cid still had no idea. None of the Turks would say.

In theory, Healen was a joint operation, between what was left of AVALANCHE and what was left of the Turks. In practice that line had turned out to be much more blurred. Sometimes the Turks ran around like they owned the place. Other days, Cid had seen Barret whippin’ them all into shape. Made for great entertainment, but hell if Reno didn’t get on his nerves.

Least he didn’t see the punk around today. Didn’t see any of the Turks, actually. Just refugees. Nobody he recognized.

Not that he'd spent much time among the people. In the few months since he'd arrived at Healen, Cid had spent most of his time trying to fix up the _Tiny Bronco_. The plane had managed to get them all here, but... well, their landing hadn't gone all that smoothly. Came with having way too many people on board. It had been a wonder they'd made it across the ocean in the first place. Course it was his expert flying that managed it.

From time to time Cid had helped patrol and work on the wall surrounding Healen -- it had gotten even higher in his absence -- but for the most part, he'd concentrated his efforts on his plane. If he could get it fixed, and more importantly get fuel, then they'd all have much better chances. Anyway, it meant that he didn't mingle much.

For now, though, all he cared about was finding Shera. He'd thought that she'd have heard all the commotion and come outside, but no luck. Maybe she was back working on the plane? The guards on patrol duty had come down from the wall to help maintain order as the refugees went through all the rations and ammo they'd brought back, and Cid tapped one of them on the shoulder. "Hey, you seen Shera around?"

The guard gave him a blank look. "Who?"

Cid huffed. "Never mind."

He wondered where everyone was. He was fine with having no Turks around, but it was weird not seeing anybody else around either. Barret spent more time than anyone out on patrol. Maybe he was with his kid. Or off on a supply run of his own.

He turned to ask Vincent if he'd seen anyone, but somehow in all the commotion he'd vanished. Cid cursed under his breath. How the hell had he managed that? Fucking spook.

"Cid! You're back!"

Cid beamed from ear to ear. It wasn't Shera, but damn if Tifa wasn't a sight for sore eyes. She hurried over to him, and Cid didn't mind when she offered a hug. Tifa had always been the touchy-feely type and after so long with no company but fucking _Vincent_ Cid was happy to have some human comfort.

"Hey, Teef," he said. "Good to be back. I was startin' to think nobody was home. Where the hell are those Shinra bastards?"

He got a couple dirty looks from the refugees nearby. Whoops. Man, it was weird being around people who actually _liked_ the Turks. Sure, they'd done a good deed in setting up this place, and looking out for people, but that didn't mean Cid trusted any of them.

Tifa, for her part, gave him a tired look. "Don't say it like that," she said. "Reno and Rude are out. Elena's inside."

"Out? What, you mean they left?" Cid was surprised. The Turks hardly ever left their precious President's side. "The hell happened while we were gone?"

"A lot," Tifa said. "Come on. Let's get inside. Shera's been waiting for you."

 

 

Healen Lodge had been quite pretty once upon a time. Cid had leafed through one of the brochures the day he arrived out of morbid curiosity, and the pictures had been nice, if you liked lots of green. The amenities listed included ample space for residents, from the private suites to the spacious grounds.

Nowadays, it was hard to walk down the hall without tripping over someone. It was a necessary byproduct of having to shove so many people into so tight a space. Cid had only glanced around outside, but it'd looked like people had taken to sleeping out there, too.

That didn't even include the people who had the disease. The healthy people were the ones who got the most space, since they were the ones who could still work and contribute. When you got sick, you got shoved into a group room where others took care of you. You didn't have to go in there during the earliest stages of the disease, when it wasn't so bad, but as soon as the dark bruises gave way to pus-spewing lesions and fainting spells, most people didn’t have a choice.

There were some people who could still manage, even through the pain of the second stage of the disease, but sooner or later they all ended up in there. And before long, if they didn’t get tranquilizers, they’d end up transforming into makonoids.

Some of the Shinra people were trying to reverse-engineer the tranquilizer formula, Cid knew, or try and make a new one that worked. Last he’d heard, it hadn’t been going well. Apparently they’d lost the formula when Meteor hit, and none of the scientists had survived. The people here were trying to come up with a new one, but from the sounds of pain coming from the medical wing, they hadn’t made much progress.

Tifa wasn't leading him there, though. Thank fuck.

Shera was fine. Probably off working on the plane. Damn woman never did like to stop working for a second. Hell if he could ever get her to rest. Course him leaving wouldn't have made that any better. Couldn't do anything about that.

"I'm glad you made it back okay." Tifa's words broke him out of his thoughts. They were past the medical wing now, and while there were still some people around it was easier to talk. "You've been gone so long, I thought-- well. Never mind. I'm just glad."

"We weren't gone all _that_ long." Sure, it'd been a trek, but it'd taken... what, a week, week and a half to get there? And the same back. "We got lucky. The mines aren't there anymore. We cut straight through." Damn good thing that had been, too. The last thing Cid had wanted to do was hike all the way around to Junon.

"That's good. Was anyone-- was Fort Condor--"

"No." Cid cut her off quick. "It's gone."

Tifa bowed her head. "Oh."

"Yeah." Not wanting to dwell on that, Cid changed the subject. "What's been happening around here? Seems like nobody's home." Come to think of it, Cloud had been out looking for supplies when Cid had left. "...Cloud's still gone, isn't he."

"...Yeah."

"The hell's takin' him so long? Well, I'm sure he's fine. Don't you worry about him, you hear me?"

"Mm. I guess." 

Cid looked Tifa over more carefully. Was she sick? She'd never shown any signs of the disease, but that didn't mean they couldn't have shown up while he was gone. There weren't any visible bruises on her, though, and her pace was steady. Still...

"How's Vincent?"

"Huh? Oh. Fine. Same as ever. Got scratched up on our way back, but he's fine now." Weirdo, Cid thought, but didn’t say. "Dunno where he went. He vanished when we got here."

Tifa smiled slightly. "I'll catch up with him later, I guess."

Cid glanced around. He'd never been in this particular wing. Last he'd checked, the Shinra people had claimed it as their territory. Something about the Turks making sure the President got all the privacy he could. By the number of people sprawled around that tune had changed dramatically. More importantly it wasn't the way outside. "You takin' me the long way, or something?"

"What?"

"Shera. Isn't she out with the plane?"

Tifa paused at the next corridor, and glanced back at him. There hadn't been any light in her eyes for a long time, but all of a sudden she just looked -- she looked _empty_. Didn't last more than a couple seconds, but it was enough.

"Cid--" she started.

"Don't." It took everything Cid had to keep his voice steady. "Just-- just tell me where."

 

 

Light cut across the room in broken, jagged lines. The blinds were broken, and no one had gotten around to fixing them. Probably just needed to be restrung. Looking at them made Cid's fingers itch. He'd never been able to abide things he could easily fix.

Shera was asleep. Had been for a while by the looks of it. Cid was relieved. He'd heard how hard it was to sleep from the pain.

He was careful to stay quiet. Didn't want to wake her. This wasn't a private room -- nobody but Rufus goddamn Shinra had a private room here -- but there were only a couple other beds and they weren't full at the moment, aside from another lump in the bed against the wall. He paid them no mind past a grimace. Guy didn’t look so good.

When Shera had first gotten the disease, the bruise had appeared on her hand. She'd thought it was just a grease stain at first. Something she'd gotten from working on the plane. It hadn't been until it didn't wash off that she'd seen it for what it was.

She'd wrapped a bandage around it and went back to work. Didn't say a damn word. Maybe if things were different, Cid wouldn't have noticed. But living like this had made Cid hypervigilant. He'd seen through it in no time.

When he'd asked, all she'd said was that she didn't want to worry him.

(That ate at him, sometimes. Thinking about what might have happened, if he hadn’t seen it. How bad would it have gotten? He didn’t want to know.)

It hadn't been that bad yet, when he left. But Cid had known it was going to get worse. It got worse for everybody. He'd known, and yet...

Shera's arms were bare, but they'd gone black with the dark lesions of the disease. Bandages were wrapped around the worst of it, but there were never enough to go around, not when so many people needed them. Her hands were seeping with black pus through the bandages, her fingers curled into tight fists. Even asleep, she was still in pain.

Deep down, Cid had known she was going to be worse when he got back. Didn't matter what he found. The disease only worked one way, after all. You got sick, and that was it. But he just couldn't let go of that stupid, foolish hope that she was okay. She'd waved goodbye to him, for fuck's sake.

Now she could barely move at all.

Cid fumbled in his pocket for the tranquilizers, then remembered with a muttered curse than he'd given them to Vincent. Shit. He had no idea where Vincent had fucked off to. What gave him the bright idea to run off anyway? Didn't he realize Shera was going to need them? Now Cid was gonna have to run up the whole goddamn lodge looking for--

Shera shifted, and knocked a small pouch off the bed. Cid hadn't noticed it -- it had blended in against the dark marks on her arm. He picked it up. There were vials inside.

That motherfucker.

 

 

"Cid?"

Cid jerked awake with something between a snore and a grunt. Came with being on the road. Even a deep sleeper like him got used to waking at the slightest sound or movement. Made it a bitch to get back to sleep, but when you were exhausted from fighting or travelling all day it wasn't that bad. Hell, he'd been happy enough to lie down on a mattress again.

Oh. Someone was calling his name. Shera. It was dark; he could just barely make out her face. Shera was fumbling for her glasses with unsteady fingers. "Cid? Is that really you?"

"Course it's me," Cid said. "Who'd you think it was?"

"...sorry."

Aw, hell. "Naw, it's nothin'," he said. He yawned and climbed out of bed, moving over to the window. The electricity was long gone, but the moon ought to give enough light, if he could just get the broken blinds out of the way.

It was pretty early. Couple hours before dawn. Cid hadn't given her a full dose of the tranquilizer, just enough to dull the pain and ease her sleep. One of these things could take down a SOLDIER -- or a person on the verge of turning into a makonoid. Best to stagger 'em, especially as he didn't have that many.

Better keep it quiet, too. Cid pulled over a chair and drew close to her bed. Shera had managed to sit up a little, but even after all the rest she'd gotten she still looked worn out. Like she'd been running a marathon. 

"You hungry?" Cid asked. "Thirsty? I could probably find you somethin'."

Shera shook her head. "It's... okay. Don't worry about it."

"Shera--"

"Really."

Cid sighed, but didn't argue. When it came down to it, she was just as stubborn as he was. Just about different things. She didn't like him taking care of her one bit. It was one of the reasons he'd left.

"How're you feeling?" he asked instead, lowering his voice. "And no bullshit. You ain't gonna tell me that shit is fine. I can see for myself it's not." He glanced around the room. "How long you been laid up like this?"

"It hasn't been that long," Shera said. "A couple days. I think." She winced as her arm jerked. More pus was leaking through the bandages.

"Goddamn, don't they ever send anyone in here to check on you? Lemme change that for you."

"You don't have to--"

"What? I got it." Cid started hunting through the supplies on the nearby shelf. Sure enough, there were some bedsheets that had been ripped into bandages. No wonder he'd only had a mattress to sleep on. "Come on, hold your arms out. I got it."

"Cid..." Shera gingerly lifted her arm and let him undo the bandage, starting up near her shoulder. "I was worried about you."

"What, me? Told you I was coming back, didn't I?"

"Yes, but--"

"But nothing. Said I'd be back, and here I am."

"Cid." Shera's voice was tired. "You know what I mean."

Cid huffed and didn't meet her gaze. He busied himself with getting the remaining bandages off of her. The skin beneath was blackened and would need to be washed clean of all the pus, but she was still human, for now.

He moved around to the other side of the bed -- didn't want her to strain herself -- and started undoing the rest of the bandages. The lesions on this side didn't look as bad, thankfully. "Let's just get you cleaned up, alright, Sooner we do that, sooner you can..."

Cid stopped short.

Shera had no fingers on her right hand.

The claws there were bright red, meaning they were freshly grown. Couldn't have been there more than a day or two. Unless there was a sharp shock to the system, it'd take time for the disease to grow the hard black plates to cover over the rest.

And then-- then they _moved_. Not very well -- Shera couldn't really control them, but she still had her arm, and she shoved the claw under her body.

"Don't-- don't _look_ at it-- Cid, I'm sorry, I--"

"Sorry?" Cid felt like he'd been bowled over. "Fucking _hell_ , I'm the one who should be _sorry_ \-- shit, I should've gotten back faster, if I'd only known-- goddammit, this is all my fault--"

"No-- no, Cid, it's not your fault, please don't blame yourself." Shera swallowed thickly. "It's all right, it'll be over soon..."

"What? Like hell it will!" Cid pulled out the pouch and pushed it towards her. He glanced around quickly, but nobody else was awake, even with that outburst. Better be careful all the same. "Shera, I found tranqs. You're gonna make it, alright? You'll be _fine_."

Shera's eyes dropped to the pouch. "You.. Cid, I can't..."

"You can and you're gonna," Cid insisted. "Shit, if you're already turning these aren't gonna last long-- I gotta get goin' if I'm gonna find you more." He started to get up.

"What? Cid, you can't just leave, you just got back--"

"And it'll take me even longer this time!" Cid's mind was already racing, thinking of where he could go -- Kalm? No, it had been picked over to hell and back, and Midgar was too dangerous... Junon? Crap, that'd be a hell of a hike... "Shit, I better start getting my shit together, make sure I got enough."

"Cid, please, don't... I don't need them, I just--"

But Cid was already getting to his feet and shoving the pouch at her. "Look, just take one when it hurts again, alright? No more than a quarter. I'll be back later. Don't let anybody see it, got it?"

"Cid..."

"Got it?"

Shera's fingers closed over the pouch. She nodded.

 

 

Cid didn't find Vincent until well after dawn. By that time he'd managed to collect his pack (or rather what was left of it, which amounted to very little) and his spear, along with some breakfast. He'd checked back in on Shera and offered her some, but she hadn't been hungry.

Eventually he ran into Vincent by pure chance. Turned out he was patrolling the wall. Who in their right mind actually volunteered for patrol duty? Most boring shit there was to do around here. The only time makonoids ever came up here was when somebody turned and the guards didn’t catch them in time. Or if someone on the edge got out. Other than that the only reason to take patrol duty was if you wanted to catch up on sleep.

Vincent, of course, took it all too seriously. He'd given Cid a stern look when he climbed up on the wall.

"Next time," Cid huffed, "you could _tell me_ where the hell you're going, asshat."

Vincent rolled his eyes and turned back to watching the perimeter. Cid hauled himself up on the edge with a grunt. The wall had gotten a couple feet taller while they'd been gone. There were less trees around, too. Looked like the ones covering the mountain were all dying. Cid had never been much of an environmentalist, the AVALANCHE business aside, but it made for depressing scenery.

"Look," Cid said, "we gotta head back out. How soon can you get your shit together?"

"Out?" Vincent was puzzled. "Why?"

"The hell do you think?" Cid pointed back at the lodge. "Shera's in a damn bad way, alright? Those tranqs I found aren't gonna last long."

"Everyone's in a bad way." Vincent sounded bland. "Just look around."

"Now you listen here--" Cid started.

"Barret's gone."

"What?"

"Barret's gone. He left a week after we did."

"The hell do you mean _gone_ , he leaves all the goddamn time--"

"His daughter is sick."

Cid's words caught in his throat.

Cloud was the one who'd gotten the deal with Shinra and set this place up, but it was Barret who'd brought all the refugees here. He'd emptied Kalm of every last survivor he could, and then he'd done his best to get what few people he could out of Midgar. Nobody _liked_ the disease, hell no, but Barret, he'd had a real chip on his shoulder about it. Felt driven to do something about it like nobody else.

But it all paled in comparison to his kid. Back during their trip around the world Cid had found it hard to believe Barret even had a kid but he'd seen the way the big guy treated her. Barret would walk across the goddamn world for that little girl. And now he’d gone off to do just that. Shit.

After a moment, something else occurred to Cid. "Cloud's not back either.”

"I know," Vincent said. "Tifa told me."

Like Cid, Tifa never shown any sign of the disease. Didn't mean she shied away from it, though. Hell, if anything she'd thrown herself in the midst of it. Did everything she could to help those affected by it. A bunch of the kids orphaned by the crisis had taken to her, both ill and otherwise. With Barret gone she was probably looking after his kid on top of all the others.

"An' she said the Turks weren't here," Cid went on.

He hadn't thought too much about it at the time but it could only mean one thing. Rufus was getting worse. Only thing that could've driven those two away from his side. No wonder he hadn't seen Elena. She had to be guarding him day and night.

"That's right," Vincent said.

"Well-- shit."

"More or less." Vincent turned back to watching the perimeter.

For some reason, that ticked Cid right the hell off, seeing Vincent turn away like it was nothing. Like all he had to do was sit there and wait for the monsters to come. Maybe it was everything he'd been through over the past few days. But seeing Vincent just accept it all was just-- Cid couldn't stand it.

"What, that's it? That's all you have to say?" Cid challenged.

Vincent glanced back. "Hm?"

"You think this is gonna help? Sittin' here on patrol and waiting for them to come?"

"It's the best use of my time, with so many gone."

"That's not the goddamn point!" Cid spread his arms. "Why the hell do you think everybody's fuckin' _left_? It's 'cause we can't just sit around and wait for this shit to happen! _I'm_ not gonna wait for it!"

The disease was inevitable. Cid knew that. But if it was going to come, he sure as hell wasn't going to let it come to _him_. Hell no.

Vincent, however, wasn't moved. "Where would you even go?"

"Junon," Cid said promptly. "We made it all the way to Condor in one piece, Junon's gotta be alright. Second-biggest Shinra installation on the continent? Course they gotta have shit."

"There's a crater between Fort Condor and Junon."

Shit. Cid had forgotten about that. One of the goddamn Weapons had come out from there and chances were the Lifestream had made it even more impassable. "Midgar, then," Cid said. "If there's anywhere that'll have tranqs, Midgar's the place."

"You've never been to Midgar since Meteorfall. How will you find your way?"

"I'll think of something! Goddammit, what's it matter! I can't just let this happen to Shera!"

"Is it really for Shera?" Vincent asked. "Or are you doing it for yourself?"

"You goddamn son of a--" Cid surged to his feet, and in two steps he had a fistful of Vincent’s cloak in his hand. " _Of course it's for Shera!_ "

Vincent yanked his cloak back out of Cid's grip. Cid lurched forward, barely keeping his balance, and Vincent made no move to help him. Instead he turned and jumped off the wall entirely, moving back towards the lodge.

"Hey! _Hey!_ Come back here, you fucker!" Cid hollered down to him. "You hear me, Valentine! Get your ass back here!"

Vincent didn't turn until he was nearly back to the lodge, and even then he only raised his voice loud enough to carry.

"You're a fool, Highwind. May you realize it before it's too late."

He retreated into the building.

Cid flipped him off.


	4. the crossroads

"You should take another one."

Cid had expected to find Shera sleeping. Or maybe that had just been wishful thinking. Once the disease hit the transformation stage, shit only got worse, never better. Shera was in for a lot of pain. If he could keep her from even the slightest moment of it...

She hadn't been sleeping, though. She'd been wrapping fresh bandages around her arm. Cid had taken over, carefully ensuring that every inch of damaged skin was covered.

"I'm all right," Shera said. "Don't worry about it."

"All I can do is worry," Cid said. He tied off the end of her bandage. "Just take it, alright? You'll feel better."

"It's fine now. I'd rather save them."

Cid couldn't bring himself to meet her eyes. "For... later?"

"For when you're not here."

That wasn't what he'd been expecting to hear. 

"Shera," he started, but he couldn't seem to figure out what he was going to say. After a moment he ran his hand back through his hair with a sigh. "Come on, don't do this."

"Please." Shera reached out for him -- the human hand, covered in bandages -- and curled it around his arm. "You don't have to go."

"I have to," Cid said. "I can't just sit around and watch you go through this."

"What about the _Tiny Bronco?_ Teller can't finish it by himself. He needs your help."

Cid had seen that for himself, as he'd been wandering around the lodge earlier. The plane's repairs were nowhere near where he'd wanted them to be, with only one person left working. The other two crewmen they'd brought from Rocket Town had died from the disease weeks ago, one right after the other.

"Don't you worry about Teller," Cid said. "I had a nice long chat with him earlier. He's got so much shit to do, he ain't gonna have time to get sick. He'll manage just fine without me. Boy learns quick." Cid wouldn't have had him learning to fly the _Highwind_ , otherwise.

"Plus," he added, "I talked to Tifa. She said she'd check in on you every day, and bring the kids along. Make sure you have plenty of company."

Course, most of the kids were sick themselves. Didn't know what it was about kids that made the disease stick to them so easily, but they got it faster than anybody else. Weren't a whole lot of them who weren't sick anymore. Had been surprising that Barret's daughter had lasted so long, honestly. 

"It sounds like you have it all figured out." Shera’s voice was very soft.

"Yup. Got everything straight earlier. Gonna head out in an hour or so." Cid curled his hand around hers. "And I'm coming _back_ , you hear me? No two ways about it. So don't worry so much, alright? Just take the tranqs when you need 'em and I'll be back before you know it with more."

"Cid..." Shera bowed her head. “You don’t have to do all this. If this is about... back then...”

There was only one thing Shera could mean by those words. 

"It's not about the rocket," Cid said. "No, maybe it is, just not like that. You know it hasn't been like that for a long time."

"I know," Shera said. "But--"

"It's like this," Cid said. "We made it out in space, Shera. All those years fixing up that rocket, and we finally got to see the stars. Those nights I was sitting in the dark, lookin' out for monsters, all I could think about was how it didn't matter how many stars I could see in the sky, none of it compared to that view we got that day. The stars just don't look the _same_ from the ground, you know? The planet didn't look the same."

What was it he'd said to Cloud? The planet looked like a little kid. Some little kid it was now, having done this to them.

"And now-- now we're back on the ground, and we're stuck. We can't end up like this, Shera. We just can't. Not when we made it all the way beyond the sky."

Saying the words, Cid realized he'd felt like this for a while. He'd accepted the reality of the situation, but he hadn't been able to let go of his dreams. How could he? He'd spent years doing nothing but hoping they'd come true.

Shera's eyes were brimming with tears. 

"Aw, hell," Cid muttered. "I didn't mean to make you cry. Here." He tossed her one of the spare bandages.

"Sorry, I'm sorry--"

"An' stop _apologizing,_ goddamn."

Shera rubbed at her face unsteadily. "No, I understand. All of it. It's why... I didn't want to tell you I was sick. I didn't want to give up on our dreams... on everything."

"You don't gotta give up. You just have to hold on long enough for me to get back. And I'm _gonna_ come back." He squeezed her hand -- the clawed one. No sense ignoring it. "Wait for me, alright?"

She smiled. “I promise.”

It was the first real smile he'd seen from her in months.

 

 

_Is it really for Shera? Or are you doing this for yourself?_

Bullshit. Fucking _bullshit_.

Of course he was doing this for Shera. He'd done all of this for Shera. Who else was going to help her? Any tranquilizers at Healen were used as soon as they got there. There weren't enough to go around. She was just one person among dozens who were sick.

He had to help her. He couldn’t just let her suffer.

 

 

"Hey. Jackass."

Vincent raised an eyebrow.

Vincent was back on guard duty, although this time he was inside the lodge. He had somehow managed to find an even shittier job than standing and guarding the wall: watching over the medical wing. Not only that, the people who were the most sick. It was a good day when those guards didn't have to subdue someone who'd gone over the edge. There hadn't been a good day in all the time Cid had been here.

More importantly, Vincent had made absolutely no preparations to leave. Apparently he'd meant that crap he'd said earlier. And he still thought he was helping by _standing around here_. Fuck, just seeing him had gotten Cid all pissed off again.

"Can I help you?" Vincent said.

"Yeah, that's the whole idea," Cid said. "I need you to come with me. We're going to Midgar."

"I'll have to pass."

"Like you're doing anything useful here."

"No, I can't imagine why putting people who are suffering out of their misery would be useful."

"Don't all high and mighty with me--"

"I've given you all the help I can," Vincent said. "If you want to do anything more for Shera, you're on your own."

"What the fuck is your problem?" Cid demanded. "Fuckin' hell, I never woulda hauled you outta your coffin if I'd known you were gonna be like this."

Vincent's tone was cold. "Perhaps not."

"She's already _turning_ , you asshole! I have to get her more tranqs, or it'll be too late for her!"

"It's already too late."

" _Listen, you--_ "

" _You_ listen." Vincent hadn't raised his voice -- he never did -- but the force of the words was enough to cut through Cid's words. "You sought to ease her pain, and so you found her tranquilizers. You can now ease her passing. There is nothing more you can do. The sooner you realize that, the better for you both."

Cid gaped at him. "The-- you-- _are you fucking crazy?_ I'm trying to save her _life_ , not watch her die! Did you really think-- _what the fuck is wrong with you?_ "

Did Vincent seriously think Cid was just going to bring the tranquilizers back to Shera so he could dose them with her and let her drift away in a nice, peaceful death? Cid recoiled from the very thought. _Fuck that._

"You seem to be forgetting there's no cure," Vincent said. "There is no way to save her. The tranquilizers do nothing but delay your fate."

"You taken a look at Rufus lately? They've been delaying his since the goddamn Meteor fell!"

And, sure, Rufus had probably taken more tranquilizers than everyone else at Healen combined, but he was still _alive_ , wasn't he? Parts of him had turned monstrous, but he still had plenty of human parts. Enough to keep holding out hope for a cure. Wasn't like he didn't have the motivation.

"And that's what Shera wants? That half-life?"

"She wants to _live!_ Mother of fuck, Valentine, that's all _any_ of us want!"

Vincent shook his head and looked away. "It's not something to desire."

"The fuck do you even know? You don't even _have_ your monsters anymore. Who knows if you're even susceptible to the disease." Cid threw his hands in the air. "Whoop de fuckin' do, you don't get to go crazy like the rest of us."

"Highwind--"

"No. You don't want to help? Fine. I'll go find the tranqs myself." Cid walked away, steaming. "You stay here. See if you can make yourself _useful_."

He didn’t look back.

 

 

So Cid was on his own.

That was fine. He could manage on his own. He'd just have to be careful. He'd been fighting the makonoids a damn long time. He knew how to keep them from getting the best of him.

For a brief moment he thought about bringing Teller along with him, but... no. The kid was better off staying at Healen. Besides he'd never been any good with a gun. He'd been one of the greenest recruits he'd ever gotten outta Shinra and Cid had spent more time covering his ass in the past few months than the other way around. Nah, he was better off staying and working on the plane.

Tifa had the kids to look after, and past that Cid didn't know the people here too well. He'd been too busy working on his own shit to make nice. That kind of thing was hard when people had the unfortunate habit of getting sick and dropping dead in a matter of months. Made you not want to get too friendly.

Anyway, he'd manage. He'd just have to change his plans.

Forget Junon. Midgar too. Cid would never make it there alone. He'd have to think smaller. He could probably make it back to the chocobo farm by himself fine, but there was nothing there to find. Only other place in the same range was Kalm.

Kalm had been picked over thoroughly by its citizens and makonoids alike, but things had to be better now. Wasn't like it had ever had a mako reactor of its own, it was powered off the Midgar grid. Couldn't be too many makonoids left.

Wouldn't be much in the way of supplies, either, but there had to be something. Somewhere no one had looked. And if there wasn't...

Well. No sense worrying about that now.

He hefted his spear over his shoulder, and headed out into the wastes alone.


	5. never look back

Kalm was a mess.

Cid had known that fact for months, but seeing it firsthand was an entirely different experience. If he hadn't known it was Kalm, Cid might have thought he'd gone to the wrong place entirely.

If anything, Cid had thought Kalm would have had an advantage, what with the big wall they had around the whole town. They'd built it in the first place when monsters really started becoming a problem, not just the occasional nuisance but something they had to keep away from the people regularly.

Monsters hadn't attacked from outside, though. They'd come from within.

The big tower that used to stand at the edge of town was completely gone. From a distance Cid couldn't tell what had happened, but it looked like whole chunks of the wall around the town were missing. Entire rows of houses had been burned to the ground, and what remained had been ripped apart. What few buildings did remain appeared to have been ransacked.

For a moment, Cid considered turning back.

Only for a moment.

What was the point? There was nowhere else to go.

 

 

Cid hadn't spotted any makonoids yet.

That alone set him on edge. They had to be here. No way they weren't. He just had to make damn sure he stayed the hell outta their way.

The thing about makonoids was that, fundamentally, they were still human. When you tried to kill one, you went for the same weak points you went for on a human being. But fighting them was like fighting an animal. They were all instinct. Nothing Cid had ever seen indicated there was any real thought behind their actions past the desire for mako.

Didn't make them easy to fight. Hell no. Mako enhanced every sense a person had. Vision, hearing, the works. Plus superhuman strength to go with it.

Goddamn, this was why Cid had needed Vincent along. How the hell were you supposed to fight these things unless you had a guy with all the same enhancements?

Whatever. He'd just have to be be careful.

 

 

Traversing Kalm was a problem, though.

Cid didn't dare go out to the main street; from what he recalled the main mako pump was out there and if there was one place he was bound to run into makonoids it was out there. Instead he was sticking to the narrow side streets and tight alleyways that ran throughout Kalm, and having a hell of a time of it. He'd already encountered a number of bodies. Mostly makonoids. Whatever humans had died here had long since been torn apart.

He'd already gone into a couple of the buildings closer to the edge of town, but there hadn't been anything to find. No real surprise there. Cid figured that if there was gonna be anything in Kalm, it would be in whatever place they'd secured against the makonoids. That was how they'd done it in Rocket Town, when the quarantine failed and things really went to shit. It was a lot easier for the healthy people to hole up somewhere together than stay spread out. 

Just had to figure out where they would've gone. 

There was that big building near the center of town, right? That church or whatever it was. Even from this distance Cid could make out the spire at the top. Looked like it was still standing.

Well, might as well check it out.

 

 

More bodies in the street. The whole town smelled terrible but it was always worse getting up close and personal with the source. The bodies had just been left out in the street to rot. Nobody had come back for them.

Wasn't like anyone really could. Most people at Healen were having a hard enough time trying to stay alive. Back in Rocket Town, they'd only had the chance to dig graves for the first wave. After that...

He pushed those thoughts aside and kept moving.

In and out. That's all he had to do. Find tranqs, get them back to Shera, stay away from the makonoids. Didn't have to be any more complicated than that.

 

 

Cid hadn't realized how close the church was to the center of town. He was still sticking to the shadows as much as he could but it was risky at all heading this way. The houses over here had burned down and what structures did remain offered little cover.

Gotta stay quiet. He could manage that.

One of the alleyways behind the church was blocked by debris but there was a clear path on the other side. Cid ducked his head out into the street. There were a couple of makonoids on the other side, clawing at some pipes. Hadn't noticed him. Cid tightened his grip on his spear and moved out, keeping close to the wall. Long as he was quiet, they shouldn't notice him. They were making a racket anyway, trying to get the pipe off the wall. Probably trying to get whatever mako was left inside.

Even so, he held his breath until he was safely on the other side.

Alright. He had this. Just had to get in the church. Whatever was in there had to be good. The windows were boarded up, so the makonoids couldn't have gotten in there and smashed it all.

Wait. Boarded up?

Cid hurried around the side of the church, looking for somewhere he could get in, but he wasn't on the same level as the windows -- they were ten, twelve feet above him. Even so, somebody had boarded 'em up. Okay, so no windows, had to be a door around here somewhere--

One on the side. More boards in front of it, but he could use his spear to break through. Cid started prying them loose, there was one off, then another, and he had the door open--

Claws came at him from the darkness. 

Cid yelped in surprise and thrust his spear forward. He caught the makonoid in the teeth and slashed its jaw open as he pushed it back through the doorway. That gave him some distance on it and he yanked his spear back to strike again--

Another makonoid came from the left, snarling, clawing at his arm-- Cid cursed in pain and tried to shove it off. There were more coming, he could make out dark figures from the top of the stairs above.

Cid managed to get a good hit with his spear on the makonoid that had gotten its claws in him and backed towards the door he'd come through. With all the windows boarded up he could only make out shapes, but they were enough to go by. The creatures in here sure as fuck weren't human. And there were a hell of a lot more than he could deal with alone.

There was no time to think. Only thing he could do was turn around and run like hell.

 

 

“Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit--”

Cid hauled ass down the street, barreling straight through all the debris he'd carefully tiptoed around earlier. This was no time for stealth. He wasn't sure how many of the makonoids were following him and he sure as hell wasn't gonna turn around and look.

Couldn't fight them all. He knew that much. Couldn't run forever either. He had to come up with something, but what?

There was a snarl from his right and a blur of motion and aw _hell_ he'd just tipped off the ones that had been in the street too. Now they were coming after him too, and a lot closer than the others. Cid swore under his breath and turned around, swinging his spear as he did. He caught the first makonoid in the side of the head and knocked it into the second. Wouldn't do more than stun them but at this point he just needed time.

Just time. Time to get away. Time to figure somethin' out. There had to be some way to distract them, maybe lead 'em away so he could fight 'em in smaller numbers if he had to.

There were a couple of storefronts up ahead. Debris from the burnt buildings had piled up on one of the awnings but it hadn’t given way yet. Cid knocked one of the supports down and sprinted forward as the rubble began to come down behind him. It sounded like one of the makonoids had gotten caught beneath it but Cid didn’t stop to look. That couldn’t have bought him more than a minute or two--

Without realizing it Cid's path had led him to the center of town. A few more makonoids were clawing at the remains of the machinery in the middle of the square, completely oblivious to his presence.

Cid's eyes widened. Of course. The mako pump.

Every town had one. It was the backbone of Shinra's power. Small towns like Kalm got processed mako straight from the reactors. Those got dumped into pumps like this and doled out to people as electricity. 

Cid was no expert on the details, wasn't his field, but the point was that there was a good chance there'd be the dregs of mako down in that pump somewhere. The makonoids had already done a number on it. Ripped out half the pipes connected to it. But Shinra built their shit well. It'd take a damn long time to get through steel that thick.

Unless...

Cid looked past the pump, to the shops on the other side of the square.

He grinned.

Maybe he could kill two birds with one stone.

 

 

The makonoids from the square hadn't followed him as he'd crossed the square. It was a small comfort, but at the way things were going, Cid would take whatever the fuck he could get.

The others were still out there, though. And he knew he didn't have long before they showed up. Some of them would probably be distracted by the mako pump, but not all of them. They'd come for him.

And he had to be ready.

The weapon shop was boarded up too. Even more than the church. Great. Cid didn't have time to be quiet about it. He pried the boards off as quick as he could and braced himself, but no makonoids came out of the darkness this time.

There was a faint glow from the counter, but otherwise it was too dark to make out much of anything. Cid pulled out his lighter and jumped over the counter.

Cid had only ever stepped foot in this weapon shop a handful of times, but he'd actually been a patron for many years. Kalm didn't have a whole lot in the way of exports -- honestly, who came to goddamn _Kalm_ for anything -- but there was one thing they were damn good at making: dynamite. 

Years ago someone had told Cid about this dynamite. He'd had a problem with monsters getting too close to the rocket and was getting sick of chasing them away, and hell if Shinra would send any of their precious SOLDIERs out to do their damn jobs and clean them up. And there were only so many times during the day he could go out and kill them himself instead of getting work done.

So Cid had found himself some quality explosives and taken care of them himself.

It was good stuff, too. The people here knew how to make dynamite. Came with being former miners. As Cid had heard it told, most of the Mythril Mines had been explored through blasting the place open. With mythril being such a tough metal, the people of Kalm had had to get downright inventive with their explosives to ensure they could cut through the mountains and expose the minerals.

Was kind of a shame the mines weren't there anymore.

Anyway. Cid had run out of dynamite in the crater, ages ago. It was time to resupply.

"Alright, where the fuck did Jodie keep 'em..."

There were very few actual weapons left in the shop. A couple broken rifles were sitting against the wall but for the most part the place looked like it'd been ransacked. The glass cases against the back wall had been smashed. There were still labels indicated what was supposed to be in there -- some antiques, and examples of mythril weaponcraft -- but they were missing. Nothing under the counter, either.

The other side of the shop had dealt with materia. Some things were still here -- a couple brightly colored orbs were loose on the floor and the glass cases here hadn't been broken but they'd been emptied out -- but everything here was useless. Much as Cid wished he could just pick up a materia and call up a spell to use against the makonoids he knew better than to try. It was just a waste of time.

Wait -- oh wait, shit. Materia.

Fuck, no wonder this place had been boarded up so tightly. Forget the mako pump, pure materia would put the makonoids into a frenzy. Materia was nothing more than pure, crystallized mako -- if one of them got their hands on it --

Something moved past the boarded windows. Cid froze.

He had to get out of here. Had to make sure they didn’t realize the materia was in here. Fuck fuck fuck, this had gone from bad to worse and he still hadn’t found any dynamite, where the hell could they have been keeping it -- as soon as the shadow moved past Cid scooped up the materia he could see and shoved them in his pocket. Maybe he could distract one of ‘em with it.

Okay. Had to keep focused. There was a back room, right? He pushed his way through the door.

Nothing. The back had been cleared out of anything useful. If anything there was even _less_ in here than there was up front. Goddammit, where the hell had they hidden the dynamite? They couldn't have possibly used it all, it wasn't like the whole town had been blown to pieces or...

The busted clock tower.

The smashed wall around the town.

All the burnt houses.

Of course they'd used it.

Fucking hell, how could he have been so stupid? The people here had been desperate. Of course they would have used anything they could against the monsters. Wouldn't have mattered in the end that it was their own friends and family turning against them. You had to do anything you could to survive. Anything.

Maybe there was something left in the church... but probably not. Shit, no wonder it had been boarded up. Quarantine. Biggest place in town. When the survivors gave up and left, they hadn't dared let the monsters loose.

Planet, he'd been so fucking _stupid_ \--

There was a crash in the front room.

The makonoids had found him.

He couldn't see how many -- just that they had broken down the door. Cid slammed the door to the back room shut and grabbed a cabinet nearby. It had been emptied out but he yanked it down and blocked the passageway. Anything to keep them from breaking down the door.

There was another door on the other side of the room. Cid tried the handle but it wouldn't open -- had to be boarded up. Crap. He slammed his weight against it and stumbled through after a couple tries. Damn easier to do that from the inside.

He'd ended up in an alley behind the shops. A dead end. Cid turned around.

The makonoids were already coming for him.

 

 

There were too many. He had known that from the start.

But knowing something and really, truly experiencing it... those were two very different things. Cid had known that there was a very slim chance that he'd find anything out in the wastes all by himself. Had known that Kalm in particular was dangerous and full of makonoids, with little to show for the trouble of going there. But it hadn't really occurred to him what that meant.

(He'd thrown the materia as far as he could -- one of them went over the goddamn wall and he saw some of them go after it but makonoids weren't single-minded and he couldn't just get rid of them all in a single stroke like that, it wasn't that easy--)

Cid had always been the kind of person to go after the things he believed in. It was the whole damn reason he'd ended up in space. And he knew dreams didn't always come true. He wasn't some naive kid who thought everything would work out just 'cause he wanted it to. Life wasn't like that.

(The alley wasn't wide enough to swing his spear around and he couldn't keep them all out of his range, they were already swarming him and it didn't matter how many makonoids he bashed his spear against, they just kept _coming_ and he couldn't hold them back--)

Maybe it wasn't about dreams. Maybe it was just about escaping his fate. Cid knew what it was like to give up hope. He'd thrown everything away for Shera before. It had been the right thing to do then. Was it the right thing to do now?

(They'd come through the weapon shop too, the door hadn't held and his back was already against the wall, he couldn't move back any further, and no matter how many of them he managed to knock back there seemed to be two more, where were they _coming_ from--)

Did it even matter?

Even if he survived, even if he got through this and somehow managed to find tranquilizers for Shera, what was the point? She wasn't gonna get better. And Cid had been living on borrowed time himself.

Die here, or die to the disease. Were those his only choices?

(His jacket was in shreds and his gloves had been torn apart but Cid hadn't let go of his spear, didn't want to, but it would be so easy -- he was getting dizzy from the blood loss and already it was hard to see and this wasn't what he wanted, none of it was what he _wanted_ nobody ever wanted this--)

 

 

A gunshot went off. Then a second, and a third.

Green blood doused Cid as several makonoids dropped to the ground.

Through blurry vision he could make out something red against all the dark spikes and claws. It couldn't be-- he wouldn't have--

"Vincent?" Cid rasped.

There was no answer. Cid hadn't really expected one.

It wasn't like it could have been anyone else.

 

 

It wasn't quick. Vincent had to reload between every shot and there were still too damn many of them. But Vincent had drawn enough of them away from Cid that he could start fighting back.

Cid wasn't doing great. He'd taken too many hits. But the makonoids were distracted by the fresh blood of the fallen and it was a hell of a lot easier to snap their necks when they were already sprawled on the ground.

More gunshots. All Cid could make out was a bunch of spikes and a blur of red and gold as Vincent grabbed onto a balcony and swung atop it before firing down into the crowd of monsters below. The height wouldn't keep them from getting him -- with those claws the fuckers were damn good climbers -- but it let him down two more with the high-caliber shots.

Then, to Cid's horror, Vincent dropped the rifle and switched to his handgun. "What the hell are you doing?" Cid hollered. "Keep shooting!"

The nearest makonoid turned to him and snarled. Oh, shit. Shouldn't have said anything.

Vincent was already firing again, but Cid was pretty sure he heard a sigh. Or maybe it was his imagination. He'd lost a lot of blood.

Cid managed to hold off the makonoid -- slammed it into the wall with his spear and kept it pinned as Vincent shot it in the back of the head -- but there were still about a half dozen of them in the alley. Two had climbed up towards Vincent as he'd been shooting, clawing at him wildly. With a loud crack the entire balcony gave way, snapping off the side of the building and falling into the alley.

"Shit, Vince--"

A couple of the makonoids had gotten caught beneath the balcony but the others descended on Vincent in a flash of teeth and claws -- Vincent's gun went off once before Cid saw it get knocked out of his hand -- Vincent snarled and grabbed one of the makonoids with his own claw, brass talons glinting in the light-- Cid hurried forward to help just as another makonoid came for him-- there was an inhuman scream of pain--

Cid jumped forward and thrust his spear into the closest makonoid, slicing it in half as he drew his weapon back. A second strike took down the makonoid on top of Vincent -- it was still moving but Vincent had pulled out another handgun and was firing straight into its skull. The angle wasn't right but at this close range not even the thick spikes could stop the bullets. The makonoid slumped to the ground.

Nothing else moved.

The makonoids were dead.

Somehow, the two of them weren’t.

"How the fuck did you find me? What are you even doing here?"

Cid slumped against his spear, letting it carry his weight. Vincent was gathering himself up -- he'd taken a couple of hits, but nothing too serious. He didn't bother looking up.

"After all this, I thought it would be obvious," Vincent said.

So it was. There was only one explanation for why Vincent was here. He'd followed Cid. Probably left Healen not long after him. Cid must have lost him in all his wandering around town, but then he'd gone and caused such a commotion that nobody in the area could've missed it.

"Yeah, okay, stupid question," Cid said. He stumbled over to the wall. No way he could hold himself up. He wasn't sure what all the monsters had done to him but he felt like absolute shit. "Thought you were pissed at me."

"I thought you were an idiot," Vincent said. "That doesn't mean I wanted you to die."

A laugh bubbled up from Cid's throat, but he regretted it immediately -- it hurt too much. Felt like he'd broken something. He pressed his hand against his stomach with a groan and gave Vincent a sideways look. "You're a real shithead, you know that?"

Vincent raised an eyebrow.

"What I mean is... thanks." Cid's smile was strained, but he meant it. "If you hadn't been here..."

Vincent shook his head, dismissive. "I know."

That was that. There'd be time to dwell on what Cid had done, but... later. Now, they had to get the hell out of here.

"Can you walk?" Vincent asked.

"Maybe." Cid wasn't doing so great with _standing_ right now. What he really wanted to do was lie down and take a nice nap, give his eyes a rest, but that wasn't in the cards. They had to get the fuck outta Kalm before the remaining makonoids came back.

First, though, Cid needed to get his wounds cleaned up. With all the blood he was losing he wouldn't make it five feet out of town. "I got shit in my pack," he said. "Gimme a hand and then we can go."

Cid gingerly let his pack slip off his shoulders as Vincent drew close. As Vincent bent to retrieve the supplies Cid caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye -- a dark claw coming towards him. He tensed, bringing his spear forward--

Vincent drew his gun, scanning the area. After a moment, though, he paused, not seeing anything. The makonoids around them were still dead. He looked back to Cid with a frown. "Cid?"

Cid was staring at Vincent's arm.

The brass claw had been broken in the fight. A couple pieces were still on Vincent's arm -- the top, where it was attached to his clothes -- but the rest had snapped off and come loose. Beneath was an arm covered in dark purple plates with jagged claws at the end.

Aside from the color, it looked identical to the claw of a makonoid.

"What the fuck-- I--" All Cid could do was sputter. "You-- I thought you couldn't get sick! How long have you _had_ that?!"

Was _that_ why he wore so many goddamn clothes? So nobody would see the lesions and the pus? Holy shit, had Cid been travelling with someone who'd been so close to transforming this whole goddamn time?

But Vincent was staring at the arm with wide eyes. He lifted it, and to Cid's astonishment he flexed each finger in turn. _Nobody_ with the disease had that much dexterity. What the fuck was going on?

"I... I don't understand," Vincent said. "I thought... I didn't realize..." He reached for the remains of the brass on his forearm, and they came away easily -- they had only been hanging onto his sleeve. "Could it be...?"

Wait. Wait, he wasn't really saying--

"Are you seriously telling me that's been under there the whole goddamn time?" Cid demanded.

Vincent closed the claw into a fist and opened it again. He couldn't seem to look away. "I could never get it off," he murmured, as if to himself. "I didn't realize there was anything underneath... I thought it was all gone."

On some level, Cid knew this was a big moment for Vincent. It wasn't every day a guy got a missing limb back, after all. But this was _really_ not the time or place to be having this kind of thing happen. Cid was still bleeding out and the makonoids could come at any second--

Cid's eyes widened.

"Stop. Wait, stop, hold on. How in the _fuck_ do you have that if you're not sick?" Cid stared at him. "I mean... you're not sick, right?"

That seemed to jerk Vincent out of his stupor. He looked away from the claw to Cid, then to the makonoids around them.

"No," Vincent said. "I'm not. I've... never had any of the symptoms." He looked back to the claw, then down at the makonoids around them. The resemblance was uncanny. "How... This isn't possible."

Cid's mind was racing.

The disease came from mako. That was obvious. But Vincent had been augmented years ago, before Meteor, before any of this. He'd gotten a hell of a lot of mako. Could it really be that simple?

Cid looked at the arm again.

Purple. It was goddamn _purple._

"Chaos." Cid felt a hysterical laugh bubbling in his throat. How had he missed it? "Holy fuck, Vincent."

"What?"

Of course -- Vincent had never _seen_ Chaos, he'd been looking from the inside out. "Your demon buddy looks just like the makonoids. Dead ringer. Holy _fuck_ , I can't believe I never saw it. All this goddamn time."

"What-- but that's--" Vincent shook his head. "That was Hojo. That's impossible."

"You got a better explanation for how you got that thing?" Cid pointed at Vincent's arm. "I'm tellin' you, looks just like Chaos."

"But that means--" Vincent was more shocked than Cid had ever seen him. "What Hojo did--" He stared down at his hands, both clawed and human.

 _Human_.

Vincent wasn't a mako-crazed monster. Hojo had given him Chaos, but he'd also made him stable.

"We have to get to Nibelheim," Vincent said. "Hojo's notes -- there may be an answer."

"Fuck answers, there may be a goddamn _cure!_ " Cid's heart was soaring, and he had to remember that that feeling was hope blooming in his chest. For the first time since this whole mess even started there was something they could actually go _do_ instead of just waiting for everything to end. "We've gotta get back to Healen-- I gotta get the _Tiny Bronco_ running again--"

This couldn't be a coincidence. There _was_ a cure -- Vincent was living proof of it. There had to be some way to use what had been done to him to cure people. To cure Shera. To cure all those refugees back at Healen. _Everybody_.

All they had to do was find it.

"C'mon," Cid said. "We gotta get moving. Let me get cleaned up and we'll get the fuck outta here."

He was already trying to wipe the makonoid blood off himself. He’d be a beacon if he kept it on him. His jacket was in shreds anyway; might as well give it up once and for all. Cid tugged it off and started using it to wipe the blood and grime from himself.

Vincent stared at his claw for a moment longer, then nodded. He drew his gun. “Don’t take long,” he warned, before heading towards the end of the alley to look out.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Cid muttered. He’d gotten most of it off, he just couldn’t get one spot off his arm. There were a couple jagged cuts there where the makonoids had cut him open, and a dark bruise beneath.

No-- no, it wasn’t--

Cid rubbed at it again. It was just grime, right? Some crap he’d gotten on himself.

“It’s clear,” Vincent called. “We should go now.”

It wouldn’t come off. The damn spot wouldn’t come off.

“Cid?”

“It’s nothing,” Cid said. His grip tightened around his spear. “Let’s go.”

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt for this fic: "Vincent's a monster when he chooses to be - what is it that lets Cid look past that?" I may have taken that + role reversal and run amok with it -- hopefully in a way that worked!


End file.
